Madly
by Geeky BMWW Fan
Summary: Batman loses his mind and memory. Diana must help him pick up the pieces. Too bad he can't remember breaking her heart. BMWW
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: I started this story about a month and a half ago and have about fifteen chapters written. So hopefully the updates on this one will come much faster than my other stories. This one will be much shorter than Stranger, which I'm still working on, BTW.

I know there is another BMWW story dealing with a similar scenario. I promise I started writing this before it was posted, and the two stories are sufficiently different in plot that I thought it ok to post my story here.

As always, thank you, KN, for the wonderful beta.

**

* * *

Madly**

**Chapter One:**

**Sunk**

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Bruce woke up, instantly feeling a sharp pain in his head. It was only when he tried to move that he realized he was strapped to a slab of concrete.

"Ah, you are awake." The sound of Ra's al Ghul's voice filled the empty cavern of the Batcave.

Trying to remember how he had ended up here, Bruce closed his eyes. Alfred was somewhere upstairs, most likely still unconscious.

"You are probably wondering why we are here."

Bruce finally turned his head to look at his captors. Standing next to Ra's was his faithful henchman, Ubu, and his daughter, Talia.

"Your curiosity seems to have deserted you, Detective. Well, let me explain the reason for our visit. It seems you have rubbed off on my daughter, and she has developed an appetite for revenge. While I do not normally encourage petty vendettas, I will this one time make an exception."

Ra's al Ghul turned to look at Talia, giving her a brief nod. "She has been most loyal, and it was the least I could do to show my appreciation." The warmth in the ancient voice disappeared as he returned his attention to Batman. "I will not lie; your removal suits me as well. In dispatching with you, I will be ridding my side of its most stubborn thorn."

Bruce growled, struggling against the chains that lashed him to the stone platform. He stared across the way at the "loyal" daughter, eyes filled with hate. Whatever attraction or affection Bruce felt towards Talia al Ghul had long ago evaporated. It had been years since he had thought of her, and he had all but forgotten the beautiful brunette's existence. He was now kicking himself for that oversight.

"But it is only temporary, Father." Talia said, voice slightly raised and accusing. Walking over to Bruce, she continued explaining. "We have modified the chemicals of the Lazarus Pit. While many of the side effects remain, you will not die. Father assured me of this before I would even consider doing such a thing."

She tucked the hair that perpetually hung in her eyes behind her ear before removing Bruce's cowl. He could feel her whisper against his ear, "Forgive me, Beloved." Her lips sought his for a parting kiss, but he turned his face, disgusted.

Blinking back tears, Talia walked back to her father's side.

At Ra's's signal, Ubu began turning a crank, lowering the platform into the abyss of the Batcave. Straight into the heart of the Lazarus Pit Bruce had created years ago. This was obviously not his intended purpose when making it. He had already been through the process of destroying all the known Lazarus Pits, not wanting Ra's to have access to them. But when he learned the pits were necessary to maintain the earth's stability, he had created one in the Batcave. Another mistake he was kicking himself for.

As the stone slab began its shaky descent, Bruce assessed the situation. His utility belt was gone, and he had no lock picks on his person. Even if he did, the locks had been placed on the under side of the platform. Supposing he could dislocate some body part and twist free, he didn't have his grapple. Alfred was unconscious somewhere in the Manor, and if he weren't, Ra's would have made sure the butler would not be able to call for help.

His only hope at this moment was the Justice League, which he had virtually abandoned months ago. Still, he mentally called for his teammates, was angry when they couldn't seem to sense his dire straits. Why couldn't Clark hear his struggle? Or J'onn read his mind?

And Diana…Of all of them, she should know, sense the danger he was in. Where was she?

The platform lurched, one side falling two feet farther than the other. The lopsided descent and gravity worked against him, pulling the chain even more painfully into his chest and sides.

"Talia, don't let him do this." Maybe he could break through to her, reach that part of her that still cared for him and would spare him.

For a brief moment, he thought he succeeded. Her brown eyes sought his, looking for something. But it was something he could not give to her. Her eyes hardened, and she practically hissed, "You would not let me have my beloved, and so I will not let you have yours."

Talia turned to look at her father, who was clearly unimpressed by the outburst.

In a calmer voice, she intoned, "Perhaps when you have thrown off the madness of the Pit, you will not be tainted by her, and we can be reunited."

"Don't hold your breath."

R'as lifted a scornful brow. "How ironic, considering I advise the exact opposite...As always, Detective, it's been a pleasure."

Turning toward his faithful brute, R'as commanded, "Ubu, release the platform."

And then Bruce was weightless in freefall.

The impact with the pit crushed the air out of him, and he heard more than a few snaps of bone. Certainly a few of his ribs, possibly his tibia and radius.

Gritting his teeth, he struggled against his bonds, hoping that the pit would dissolve the chains, but it didn't. That was not one of its properties, much as he wished.

The fumes of the Pit burned. His eyes watered, and he started to cough from the hazardous vapors and eventually the pain. His bones were already starting to knit back together.

The slab sank, slowly being engulfed by the bright green fluid that bubbled up from the ground. He could feel it crawling up his legs and arms. In a few seconds, he knew it would enter his mouth and nostrils, fill his lungs. And then there would be madness.

If Ra's was not lying, he would live through this. But he did not know what other alterations they had made to the Lazarus Pit or what schemes they had devised. He had heard it could be manipulated to bring people under mind control. And of course, there was the madness and insanity induced by the pit's "restorative" powers. While he might not die, it was possible he would never be Bruce again.

Time was short. He remembered his parents, Alfred, Dick.

The green fluid seeped into his mouth, and he spit it out, trying to keep his mind clear. There were only a few seconds left, and he decided they would be spent on her. It had been so long since he had allowed himself to think about her, but her face was recalled instantly. Not one detail was incorrect; she was perfect.

_Diana _

He could feel his mind slipping.

_Diana_

She would be his last memory as a free, thinking person.

_Diana_

He no longer knew himself.

* * *

**To Be Continued**

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A/N: Thanks for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Thank you, Kipling-Buddy. You be the bestest beta in the universe. **:D**

Um, I make reference to a joke about Batman that I don't really share with the reader. You needn't ask me about it; I don't know what it is. **:D**

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**Madly**

**Chapter Two:**

**Lost**

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"Master, shall we leave him here?"

"Yes, my daughter wishes him alive, and I want him out of the way."

The voices cleared through the fog of Bruce's mind, waking him. He opened his eyes to darkness, but he could smell and hear some…thing. The muscles in his body coiled, ready to attack at the unknown. Seething, he ran in the direction of the scent, but chains arrested his movement.

A light flicked on, revealing two men. They were both bald, but the big, hulking one was completely without hair. The tall, thin one had black and gray wisps on the back of his scalp.

He did not know them, but he hated them. Bruce snapped at the chains again, snarling.

"Like an animal," Ubu spat. "Pathetic."

"Yes, for now his mind is completely gone. Submerging him repeatedly in the pit prolonged the process of madness, among other things."

"Are you sure he will not be found?"

"There is no one for miles."

"And their telepath?"

"The Martian? His mind is too far gone to be recognized, and probably will remain this way for many months."

Not understanding what they were saying, Bruce kept fighting against his chains.

"Sedate him, and then unlock his chains. I will be waiting in the helicopter."

"Yes, Master."

After the older man left, the bald man approached Bruce, a sharp object in hand. As he neared, Bruce roared incoherently, wanting to frighten and intimidate the enemy, but it was ineffectual. His attacker's face contorted in a wicked gleam. "Not so brilliant now, are you?"

And then there was a sharp pain stabbing in Bruce's arm. He stared down at it, blinking at the syringe still embedded in his skin. Five seconds later, he collapsed to the ground.

Page Break

Diana stared across the table at the attractive man with the disheveled blond hair, trying not to smile.

"What?! You know it's funny." Her date, Tom Tresser, gesticulated wildly with his hands. He had a lively and open personality; she liked it.

"That's not the kind of joke I'm supposed to find amusing. He is a teammate and respected colleague."

"But he's also a heartless bastard. That's what makes it funny. Batman would never even own a diary. Come on. Laugh. I promise not to tell."

Diana ruefully shook her head and reached for her drink. Taking a sip through her straw, she contemplated her next action. It had been so long since someone had flirted with her.

Tom cleared his throat. "Actually, I've been meaning to ask you…"

Diana raised her brows in amusement, wondering what would make him so uncomfortable. "Yes?"

"Was there ever anything between you two?"

Diana laughed. "Usually everyone thinks there is something between me and Superman."

Tom dismissed the idea with a wave of his hands. "Nah. I always figured you for the bad boys."

"I was not created _for_ any man, good or bad."

"I didn't mean it in that way. I'm sorry if I offended you."

He sounded contrite, and she was sure it was a misunderstanding. Besides, she knew her comment wasn't really meant for Tom. Diana decided to play along.

"According to your joke, Batman is a big softie, and therefore does not qualify as a bad boy."

"You're evading answering the question. In my book, that's a yes."

"And what about you? Do you have any significant others in your past that I should know about?"

Tom pursed his lips, eyes suddenly serious. "So it was significant?"

Diana took another sip of her soda. "_Was_. It isn't any longer."

"Good to hear."

His confidence was attractive, and she found herself smirking. "And why exactly do you think you stand to benefit from my singleness?"

"You're here with me, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Well, there you go. And it only took me asking you out five times before you said yes." Tom laughed. " I'm surprised you didn't think I was stalking you."

"I did."

Tom coughed on his drink. "Really?"

"At first, yes, but Hawkgirl convinced me I should go out on one date with you."

"So I guess this is my one and only chance to impress you."

"Pretty much."

"How am I doing?'

Diana smiled. "Fair to middling."

"You wound me, Princess."

Her grin faded slightly. Bruce was intruding once again. She repeated the firm reminder that he was her past. And this present wasn't so bad. Tom was handsome, funny, charming. He wasn't Bruce, but she didn't want Bruce.

"Did I say something wrong?" Tom asked.

Nope, he was definitely not Bruce. His thoughtfulness was…nice. She wasn't accustomed to it, but it was a welcome change. "No, not at all."

"So, tell me a little more about your teammates. I heard some rumors about the Flash getting kicked out of an all-you-can-eat buffet."

"It's possible. Just the other day, I saw him eati—"

"Diana?"

Clark's voice sounded in her ear. Looking apologetically at Tom, she said, "Just one second."

Tom leaned back, throwing his arm across the top of the booth. "Take your time."

Touching her com link, Diana said, "I'm on a date and specifically requested not to be disturbed."

"It's Batman."

Diana's stomach twisted, acid rising and roiling and causing her pain. "What about him?"

"He's gone missing."

"For how long?"

"Over a week."

Diana gripped the table, trying to steady herself as a wave of panic threatened to drown her.

"How long have you known?"

"…Diana, I wouldn't keep something like this from you. Alfred just informed me."

Turning to Tom she said, "I have to go," and then rushed out of the restaurant.

"Superman, transport me to the Watchtower. _Now_."

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**A/N: Thanks for reading!

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**

Anonymous Review Reply

Nightwatcher'sunknowngirl- Hi there! Just wanted to tell you thanks for reviewing. I'm glad you're finding it exciting, and hope the future chapters don't disappoint you. :D Be well!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Thank you, **Kipling Nori**, for the beta. In grateful appreciation, I bestow upon thee some ranch and cucumbers. **:D**

Also, **bookself**, if you are reading this, I tried contacting you earlier about the stuff you sent me in a private message, but you have yours turned off, so I could not reply back. I did post something in my profile about it, but I will be taking that off soon.

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**Madly**

**Chapter Three: **

**Shoulder**

* * *

He was on fire. Tossing and turning, back and forth, and there was no relief. His throat was dry, cracked and scratchy as tree bark. Every breath was suffering, and he would have stopped but he couldn't.

Discordant, jarring sounds engulfed him. Loud blasts, screaming, the soft thud of bodies falling, screeching, a horrible fluttering. But these sounds meant nothing to him; they were only a loud cacophony of chaos pulsating down his auditory canal. Clawing at his head he covered his ears, needing the sounds to stop penetrating his skull.

Horrified of what would greet him, Bruce shut his eyes tight, curling in on himself. Shivers wracked his body, and the heat turned to ice. Cold, paralyzing fear slithered down his spine, and he opened his mouth to scream, but didn't want to let the monsters outside find him, so he kept silent.

_Bruce._

The voice was soft and sad, and he didn't recognize it or the sounds it was saying.

He felt a warm hand on his forehead. His eyes clenched shut even tighter, but the hand did not leave. It just kept stroking his face, repeating the same sounds over again.

_It will be alright, Bruce._

His breathing had finally slowed, and he was no longer afraid of the thing touching him. Wanting to see who was there, he opened his eyes.

The creature was beautiful. Hair dark as night, face like the moon, eyes like stars.

He didn't know what it was, but inside he knew he was safe.

He said the only thing that came to mind.

"Diana?"

She smiled slightly, then nodded her head. He reached for her face, tracing it with tentative fingers. When he touched her mouth, she kissed his fingertips.

"Diana?"

_Yes, it's me. I'm here._

He moved towards her, wanting to be nearer to thing that made him feel secure. The being pulled him into strong arms, wrapping warmth around him and infusing him with calm.

His head was cradled against her chest, and he listened to the nonsense coming from her mouth. His eyes began to droop, lulled by the steady beat of her heart.

"Diana," he muttered the word again, not quite sure what it meant, though knowing it was in some way connected to the creature holding him.

And then he fell asleep.

When he woke up, the terrifying sounds were gone.

And so was Diana.

* * *

Diana was exhausted. They had poured over everything they knew about Ra's al Ghul, had questioned Alfred multiple times, searched the Batcave repeatedly, and yet they were no closer to finding Bruce than they had been a week earlier when they first found out about Bruce's disappearance.

Every part of her was on edge. She would have always dropped everything to help find a missing teammate, but Bruce was more than that. He was her first love, her only love, and had been one of her closest friends. And this difference pierced her with guilt.

It wasn't her fault he was gone. She knew that. But she was angry that just when she was moving on, he would remind her of how little progress she had made. And of course this anger was misplaced and made her feel terrible. He couldn't very well control the timing of when a madman would try to bring him down.

A touch on her shoulder startled her. "Diana, you should get some sleep," the voice said.

Squeezing her eyes shut for a second, Diana opened them. Everything was blurry; but they still hadn't found him. "No, I can stay up for a few more hours."

"There are many people looking for him." A different voice was speaking now. Diana glanced up. J'onn was standing next to Clark.

"I know, I just don't want to go to sleep yet…Are you sure you can't locate him, J'onn?"

The Martian Manhunter nodded his head sadly. "I'm sorry, Diana, but without a location to focus on, I cannot open my mind. It's too dangerous. But when we can narrow his coordinates down, it will be the first thing I do."

Diana inhaled heavily, trying to calm herself. She had known that would be his answer; it had to be. She shouldn't have asked. It had been selfish of her.

Clark pulled her to her feet. "Come on. I will wake you the instant we hear anything."

With that promise, she finally conceded.

But Clark didn't have to wake her, because they didn't hear anything. Not for a week, not for a month, not for many months.

Every night and every morning, she prayed to her goddesses to bring him back. She pictured him, hurt and helpless somewhere, calling for her. She visualized herself finding him and taking care of him. And he would let her help him; he would let her love him.

But hope began to fade. There were no answers. Not for her.

For the media, Bruce Wayne had gone on an extended vacation, a sabbatical to explore the world. Between Nightwing, Batgirl, Robin, Superman, and Huntress, Gotham City was covered. Dick and Clark would even put in appearances as the missing hero. The world did not know he was gone. But she did, and it was becoming so very difficult to pretend as if nothing was wrong.

This was the excuse she gave for calling up Tom Tresser three months into their searching. She needed someone outside of the League, someone who didn't live and breathe every second waiting for Bruce to return.

She couldn't tell him the details, or even the generalities. Batman's disappearance was classified information. But Tom sensed something was wrong. He didn't ask, and she was grateful. Instead, Tom helped by distracting her, keeping her mind off the gaping hole in her chest. At first, he wasn't very successful, but with Tom's persistence it became easier and easier.

Diana had refused to believe Bruce could be dead; her heart would have told her if Bruce had died. But now she could entertain the possibility that he was gone. After all, they weren't even that close any more. Their connection was tenuous, if not severed.

But Tom and she were growing close. He was helping her heal, helping her picture a world and life without Bruce. To see what things would be like with Tom.

She wasn't in love with him yet, not like she had been with Bruce, but she hadn't known Tom as long. Besides, Bruce was her first love, and she doubted she would ever recapture feelings like that again. Not because any future relationship could not be as good, or better, but because people seemed to attach a certain sentimentality to first loves. Or at least that was what she had read. It was good to know, so she wouldn't hold any unrealistic expectations of her relationship with Tom. And even though she wasn't sure where this was going, she knew that Tom was a good man, one she respected and cared for. For now, that was enough.

After three months of enjoying his support, Diana decided to give Tom a chance and asked him on a date.

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**A/N: Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Thank you, KN, for being my beta.

I know there were concerns about Talia appearing and tricking Bruce. Rest assured. It isn't Talia. That would be too cruel, and though it would probably have made for a very exciting plot twist, my poor widdle heart could not have borne it. **:D**

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**Madly  
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**Chapter Four:**

** Hope**

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Bruce's episodes of lunacy were returning less and less. And whenever they came, she would appear.

Diana was the one to suggest leaving the hut. And so soon after, he began looking for food and drink. It was not hard. The land was fertile; there were fruit trees and a stream within sight. He didn't want to go much further than that. He never knew when he would lose his mind, and he didn't want stray too far and lose the only part of his life that was familiar.

He spent his days sitting inside the hut, trying to remember his past. Nothing came to mind, though he had a slight premonition that the images and sounds during his fits of madness held some clues to his former life. Whatever kind of life he had before, it didn't seem all that great. So eventually he stopped thinking about it.

He did, however, spend significant thought on Diana.

He forced himself to stay awake whenever she was there, because she would always leave when he fell asleep. Even her promises to return would not allow him to relax.

Pretty soon, she was visiting him every night. She would hold him in the darkness, speaking comforting words in his ears. At first, he didn't say anything back. But the more she talked with him, the more he understood. She would coax words from his lips, loosing his tongue with her smiles and touch.

He very rarely responded in kind to her inviting caresses. Sometimes he would curl her hair around his fingertips, maybe even press his lips to her palm, but it did not happen often. He did not want to offend her in any way, give her a reason to leave him. She was his link to health and happiness, and he knew it would be because of her that he would get better.

Of course, he also didn't want her to leave because he was in love with her. He was determined that she would be with him, in the light and in the dark.

And he was starting to succeed. She would come earlier in the night, even when he wasn't feeling sick. He could stay awake longer with her, and she wouldn't try to make him fall asleep. Sometimes, when he would wake from a bad dream, she was still there. And in the morning, the scent of her hair would surround him, and the ground next to him was still warm from her presence.

Finally, it happened. He awoke she was still there, curled into his chest. She continued sleeping as his eyes roamed over her dawn-lit frame. His tattered shirt was grasped lightly by her delicate hands. His own arms tightened around her, and she nuzzled her face into his neck. Her breaths came out evenly through her beautiful mouth, tickling his skin.

He didn't stop himself. He leaned forward and kissed her.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at him, eyes bleary.

"You stayed," he said.

She didn't answer, only smiled at him. He kissed her again.

Slowly pulling away, he drew her closer, cradling her in his arms.

"I love you, Diana."

_I love you too, Bruce._

* * *

Diana and Tom walked up to the Embassy doors, hands intertwined. They stopped on the front steps, turning to face each other.

"So, when will I see you again?" he asked.

"Probably not for another week. I have an important diplomacy mission that requires me to be out of the country for a few days, and then I have some monitor duty to catch up on."

Tom leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips. "Hmm, wonder why?"

Diana smiled against his mouth before pulling away. "Perhaps it's because I have rescheduled it the past three times to go out with you."

"Who is in charge of that schedule anyway? I need to sit down and talk with them."

"I doubt you would get very far with J'onn. Besides, I really should be focusing more on my role with the League." Diana sighed, frustrated that she was having difficulty balancing her professional and personal life. "Much as I enjoy spending time with you, I've been neglecting my other duties, and I don't want to do that."

"Are you sure?"

"Tom…"

"I'm kidding. I understand how important this is for you."

"You're important too."

_But not as much as work._

The words weren't said, but they didn't need to be. Tom's smile looked as half-hearted as she sounded, and Diana felt guilty. She liked Tom. A lot. But he still came second to the League. And she didn't see that changing anytime soon. Her duty to her country and to Man's World came first, and he needed to understand that. "I'm sorry. I wish it could be different," she said.

He placed a finger under her chin, raising her face so she had to look at him. "It's alright, Princess. I'll take what I can get."

He was so undemanding, so easy to please. She wished she didn't always have to disappoint him. "You're too nice," she said.

"Well, you can make it up to me by calling me as soon as you're available."

Diana nodded her head. "Well, I should be going." She turned toward the door, but Tom pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply. Just as she started wrapping her arms around his neck, he pulled back, a mischievous grin lighting up his face. "That's so you won't forget me."

Dazed and slightly giddy, Diana watched him walk away. Not wanting him to have the last word, she called out, "I wouldn't dream of it."

Once inside the Embassy, Diana walked to her room and collapsed happily onto her bed. After a few moments, she picked up the papers on her nightstand and read over the current events in Eastern Europe, preparing for her diplomatic visit to that area of the world.

She was woken from a slight snooze by the buzzing of her com link. Groaning, she rolled over and answered the hale.

"What is it?" she asked.

"We need you to come to the Watchtower immediately," Superman said.

Diana sat up in alarm. "Why? Is something wrong?"

"We have a lead on Batman's whereabouts."

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A/N: Thanks for reading.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Thanks, KN, for the beta! May the odds be always in your favor. :D (You'll understand that once you get the book! I can't wait!)

A/N: There seems to be some confusion about just who is coming to Bruce. It's not Talia. It's simply Diana as a figment of his addled mind. Nothing more sinister than that, I promise.

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**Madly**

**Chapter Five: **

**Stay

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**

As soon as Diana entered the conference room, the chattering of the five other founders ground to a halt.

It was like walking into a funeral where all the guests were wondering how to act around the remaining family members. Only Bruce wasn't dead and Diana hadn't been grieving. He was missing and could be back with them very soon, and they were wondering how he would react to the knowledge that she had been moved on. Or at least those were the thoughts running through Diana's head.

Her relationship with Batman had been the worst kept League secret. And amongst the founding members, it wasn't a secret at all. Even before Bruce and she had begun dating, they had constantly received comments, advice, and encouragement from every person now sitting at the table. It was common knowledge that Bruce loved her and she loved Bruce. Even when they had broken up, she was the only one stunned by it. They all expected them to get back together eventually.

Walking to her seat, she tried not to think of what was going on through the minds of her teammates. She had so much to think of herself, and it wouldn't help matters to wonder if they disapproved of her relationship with Tom.

As soon as she took her seat, Superman stood up. "On the latest League mission, Question and Booster Gold were sent to investigate some strange happenings in Australia. While there, they come across stories from the natives about a man that fit the description and methods of operation of Ra's al Ghul. Question was able to confirm that it was indeed him. Since we know he was behind Batman's kidnapping, we must find him and force him to tell us where Batman is. Are there any volunteers for this mission?"

Flash's hand immediately shot up along with J'onn's. Diana squirmed in her seat, highly aware of Superman's gaze on her, but she didn't raise her hand.

"Alright, the three of us will go investigate, and the rest of you will rotate staying in the Monitor Room. Remain in radio contact at all times. Until we find out what's happened to Batman, we'll continue keeping this under wraps. We wouldn't want to raise anyone's hopes unnecessarily."

A chorus of nods and acquiesces sounded in the room.

"J'onn and Flash, be ready to leave in ten minutes." The Speedster and Martian left the room, presumably to tie up some loose ends. John and Shayera left too, indicating they were heading to the Monitor Room. That left Diana with Clark.

"Why aren't you coming?" he asked.

"There are already three of you. Besides, I'm not quite certain I'm objective enough to deal with Ra's."

"You're sure this has nothing to do with Tom?"

As if Clark had any right to ask. Hot anger surged through her, and she welcomed it. It was much easier to work with than the hurt and disappointment that Clark had sided with Bruce instead of her. "What does that matter?"

"Diana, Bruce loves you, and he's been gone for almost nine months. He will want you to be there."

"We don't even know if he is alive."

"He is. You know it, and so do I…I know he hurt you, but this is bigger than what he did to you."

"You only say that because it didn't happen to you!" Diana stopped speaking, before she said something she regretted. Clark was right, but for none of the right reasons. This wasn't out of spite or vengeance. She couldn't have her hopes raised only to be dashed again.

"I will not justify my feelings to you," she said, as calmly as she could.

"I'm not asking you to." But the condemnation in his voice was clear, and it set her teeth on edge.

"You think I'm so selfish that I would put my own personal feelings over the welfare of a teammate? Look, Clark, I want nothing more than to find Bruce, but … he ended things with me and didn't want me around, so I doubt he'd appreciate me being there when you find him. I've accepted it and am trying to move on, and so should you."

Clark looked absolutely scandalized. "What are you saying? That you are in love with Tom Tresser?"

"And what's—" She was shouting. It took some effort, but she lowered her voice, "what's wrong with Tom Tresser?!"

"Nothing." But it didn't sound like nothing.

Even if neither would say it, Clark and Bruce were best friends; and it was clear that in Clark's mind, Diana belonged with Bruce, and to love Tom was betrayal to Bruce. And therefore Clark.

Of course, she wasn't even in love with Tom, but she would be damned if she told Clark that. Frankly, he deserved no explanations.

"I'm not going to stop living my life just because you think I should have died when Bruce disappeared."

"That's not what we think. I—"

"_We_? Do you all sit around and talk about me behind my back?"

Clark held up his hands in a defensive stance. "_I_ just don't understand why you wouldn't want to come, especially since you were so invested in finding him. Well, you were invested until you started dating Tom."

Diana's eyes narrowed to slits. "You think I'm choosing Tom over Bruce." It couldn't possibly be because her involvement in Bruce's disappearance had been unhealthy, borderline obsessive?

"You won't explain yourself, so what else am I supposed to think?"

"I don't care what you think, but don't contact me unless you actually find Batman. Then and only then do I want to talk about him with you or anyone else. And feel free to tell the others that as well."

Not waiting for a reply, Diana turned on her heel and exited the room.

* * *

Bruce stared up at Diana, his head cradled in her lap.

"I think I could stay here forever."

_But what about your home?_

"The only home I know is here. With you." He gripped her hand, twining their fingers together. "Promise you'll always be here."

_Bruce._

He sat up, alarmed at her hesitation. "Promise me. The only way I will leave this place is if you come with me."

_And if we leave, how will you eat or drink?_

"Better to die of starvation than go mad." He lifted her hand, kissing it as if it were something holy. "You are the only thing keeping me sane."

_So I'm your alternative to madness? That's not very flattering._

Her smile irritated him. She didn't seem to get the severity of his problem or how much he relied on her. How much he loved her.

Frustrated, he stood to his feet. He was about to walk away from her, but stopped at the gentle tug on his pant's leg.

_Bruce, wait. _

He stood there, but refused to look at her. His anger would melt, and he wanted to hold onto it. For once, he didn't feel weak.

_You shouldn't threaten to leave me._

His shoulders sunk as he faced the reality of the situation. "I don't have that power. You know that."

She stood up to him, placing her hands on his shoulders. He wanted to fall into her arms, weeping. As much as he didn't want to face his past, he hated his constant state of helplessness even more.

_Good. Because I would miss you._

Her hands moved from his shoulders to his face, and he closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her lips on his. Tired, he leaned into her body, allowing himself to draw strength from her. As always she was so quick to give, but more than that, she happily received what he had to offer. It wasn't much, but with her acceptance, it grew more and more. She didn't throw his weakness in his face or mock him when he tried to show her he could be strong too.

He lifted his mouth from hers, tilting her head back, so he could look into her eyes. His heart quickened at what he saw. Trust, desire, respect, love, and all for him and him only. He knew his eyes were mirrors of hers.

"Stay with me," he said, half demanding, half pleading.

_Always.

* * *

_

**To Be Continued**

* * *

Anonymous Review Reply:

**D- **Don't worry about not reviewing. I'm horrible at reviewing; I'm hardly going to fault someone else for it., especially when that someone else is always so thoughtful and nice when she does review. :D /Given that Bruce has fits of insanity, I think that should better explain who this Diana is. Think of the movie Beautiful Mind. Though Bruce doesn't have the identical problem of the Russell Crowe character. /LOL, I'm glad you see Tom Tresser for what he is. And the patronizing tone towards him is hilarious. Like he's some kind of puppy you are patting on the head. I haven't really thought of who Tom will end up with him, but that's probably because I don't care too much for him, though I've tried to make him a really nice guy in an unfortunate situation. I should probably flesh him out a bit more before the story is over. /I understand what you mean about Diana going out with Tom being weird. Part of me thinks, if you really love someone you wouldn't even consider being with another person. However, I'm not sure everyone holds quite that romantic of a view, and she thought Bruce might be dead, she knew he didn't want to be with her, and she wants to move on. It had been a year and six months after Bruce dumped her before she had officially started dating Tom. I think of Tom as more of a comfort than a love interest. Like a friend that she occasionally kisses. /Thanks for reviewing! I hope you are well. =D


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Kudos to my beta, KN. Thanks for looking this over. :D

A/N: I know. I'm horribly horrid. Haven't updated stories or replied to PMs (lol) or reviews. And that probably won't be changing any time soon. But here are the next two chapters of this story. Hope you like it.

* * *

**Madly  
**

**Chapter Six: **

**Confused**

* * *

It had been days since Superman had left with J'onn and Flash to track down Ra's al Ghul.

Diana was kicking herself for her last words to Clark. Even if they had not found Bruce yet, she was dying to know what they had discovered. Her worry was distracting her, and it was making the already frustrating job of diplomacy that much more difficult.

Thankful that she would be leaving in the morning, Diana took to her bed. She was just beginning to drift off when her com link sounded.

Diana fumbled through the dark, instantly snatching the communicator the second she felt it in her fingers.

"Yes?! What is it?" she asked, voice raised in expectation.

"Whoa, there. I didn't know you were expecting a call."

"Tom." She was both disappointed that it wasn't Clark and that she wasn't more excited to receive a call from her boyfriend.

"Is this a bad time? Did I wake you up?" he asked.

"I was already awake."

"It's after one there. Having trouble sleeping?"

"Yes."

"Something I can help you with?"

"Probably not."

She could hear him sigh. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing."

Even if Bruce's disappearance weren't classified, she knew it wasn't fair to talk about her ex-boyfriend with her current one. Besides, she hardly ever discussed these kinds of things with Tom. They got along so well, but the deep conversations just hadn't happened yet.

"I wish you would tell me. You never know, I might be able to help you out."

It took her awhile to respond, because she didn't know what to say. He obviously wanted to help her, but she couldn't let him. She had tried that before, with someone else, and it had been disastrous. The lesson had been painfully learned: only she could take care of herself.

Before she could craft a truthful response, Tom said, "Diana, this doesn't have anything to do with Batman?"

The alarm bells were going off in her brain. Was it possible he knew that Bruce had disappeared?

"Why would you think that?" she asked.

"It's just…you're so closed off. You never tell me about yourself, and…well, he's the only guy that you've dated besides me. I guess I just figured he must have done something pretty bad to make you unwilling to trust me. We've been together six months, and I feel like you know me so much better than I know you."

When she still didn't speak, he continued on, his voice quiet. "Do you still love him?"

She couldn't answer. The words were stuck in her throat.

"I guess that's my answer."

"Tom, I don't…" Diana swallowed, trying to speak the words she could hardly acknowledge to herself. "I don't know."

She could picture Tom, blond hair falling in front of his face, his normally happy blue eyes touched by sadness. The image twisted her gut, if only because she was the one who caused it.

"Do you think you could ever love me?" he asked.

Well, at least that was a question she knew the answer to.

"Yes, but I need time. I'm sorry, Tom. I really do wish I could make this easier for you, for the both of us."

His voice sounded instantly brighter. Still quiet, but it had lost its strangled tone. "Don't worry about it. I've had my heart broken before too. Sometimes it takes awhile, but you'll get better. As they say in Man's World: time heals all wounds."

Having expected him to be either hurt or angry with her answer, Tom's understanding lifted a heavy weight from her shoulders. Diana even laughed. "Well, can it hurry up? I think I've been wounded long enough."

"There's my girl. See, you're getting better already."

"Thanks to you."

"Told you I could help."

"Thanks for being so understanding." Diana paused, yawning. "Excuse me."

"I guess I should let you get some sleep."

"Alright. Talk with you later."

"OK. Good night, Diana…and, just so you know, I'll give you all the time you need…I love you."

Diana's eyes widened, but Tom severed the link before she could respond. With a groan, she buried her face in her pillow.

They had reached a stasis, and she thought he would be fine with that until she was ready to proceed. Apparently, she was wrong. He had meant well; she knew that. But he wasn't supposed to say that. Not this soon; not when she wasn't ready to reciprocate.

She was certain she could love Tom; it was just under the worst circumstances that they had begun their relationship. If only she had met him before Bruce. If only Batman hadn't gone missing. If only more time had elapsed, she could be head over heels in love with him.

It was this belief that kept her in the relationship, but he was making it harder for her. And his confession of love, rather than warming her heart, made her feel cold and uncaring. At some point, she'd have to love him rather than know she should love him. But it just hadn't happened…yet.

Turning over to her side, she stared at the red numbers of her alarm clock. It was so late. Perhaps she'd use the lasso to make herself fall asleep.

Just as she reached for the golden coils, she was haled on her com link. Dreading a follow up conversation with Tom, she was relieved to hear J'onn J'onnz instead. Again, she was disappointed not to hear from Clark. He was to contact her when they found Bruce, but at least J'onn could give her an update on their progress.

"Is everything alright?" she asked.

"We've found Batman, and he is on the Watchtower."

"What?" Diana bolted up from her bed. "How long has he been there?" she asked.

Diana stumbled in the dark towards her uniform. "Nearly forty-eight hours."

"When were you going to tell me?" she said, tried to keep the accusation out of her voice, but not succeeding.

"Superman thought it best to wait until Bruce was ready to see you, but his condition has worsened. It no longer seemed in either party's best interest to keep this from you. Are you ready for transport?"

"Yes. Please hurry."

* * *

Bruce turned over on his back. All at once, the bright lights and sterility of his new room rushed at him, assaulting his senses. The sounds of the jungle had been replaced with the low humming of an air conditioning unit. Humid, sticky air was now under regulation in his climate-controlled environment. Even his clothes were different. But this wasn't the most jarring realization. A weary loneliness had seeped and settled into his bones.

Diana was gone.

"It's good to see you awake, Bruce."

Sitting up with a jerk, Bruce turned to the side. There was a man covered in blue looking at him. It was the same man who had taken him from his home.

Bruce rushed forward to attack him, but fell to the ground, slamming into a glass wall. The force knocked him on his back, but he got up again. He flung his fists at the partition, determined to get out and return back home.

"Where is she?" he yelled.

The man walked over to the glass, placing his hand against it. "Batman, it's alright."

He wasn't Batman. He was Bruce. That was what Diana always called him.

Bruce bared his teeth. "Where is Diana?"

The man frowned, shaking his head. Turning away he walked over to a wall and pushed a button. "J'onn, I think you should come here. He's awake."

In less than a minute, a green creature phased through the walls.

Bruce stepped back, tripping over himself to get away from the monster.

_Batman, we are your friends._

Bruce tore at his hair, trying to get the voices outside of his head. He needed to get back. Diana had promised she would stay there as long as he did. She wouldn't be able to find him here.

Another man joined their ranks. He was covered in red, his face hidden.

"Supes, his heart rate is through the roof."

"I know," the man in blue said tersely. "I can hear it…J'onn, I think we should sedate him."

"Agreed."

A hiss sounded in the room, and Bruce saw a white mist released into the space around him. It was cold on his skin and tickled his nose. The instant he inhaled it, he grew light headed. He fell against his cot, trying to stay awake.

"Diana," he whispered before the gas knocked him out.

* * *

**To Be Continued**


	7. Chapter 7

**Madly  
**

**Chapter Seven: **

**Anger**

* * *

Diana rushed to the infirmary once she was onboard the Watchtower. There was no one there. Touching her com link, she haled the Monitor Room.

"Where is J'onn?" she demanded.

"He's in the holding cell area with Flash and Superman."

She recognized the voice of Mr. Terrific, but was in no mood for pleasantries. Thankfully, Mr. Terrific didn't care for them either. As quickly as she could, she flew to the floor that housed the holding cells.

Having not asked which room J'onn was in, she made her way down the corridor, peering into the small openings in the doors. On the third to last cell, she finally found them. Pressing her hand against the recognition device, she nearly screamed with frustration as it slowly scanned her finger and palm print.

Finally the doors parted, and her heart stopped.

On the other side of the glass partition was Bruce. He was on a cot, back to her, body curled and trembling in a fetal position. His clothes stuck to his clammy skin, and he looked so frail, which meant he must have been in really bad shape. Under no condition would he ever allow his teammates to see him so helpless, unless he was completely incapacitated.

"Hera," she pleaded.

Someone placed an arm on her shoulder, and she whipped her head around to see J'onn.

Behind him was Superman and Flash. The edges of her visions blurred, as the blood rushed through her ears. Striding over to the Man of Steel, she slammed him into the nearest wall. "Why didn't you tell me he was here?"

He quickly got to his feet, brushing the dust and debris off his suit as if he was in the habit of being put into a wall. "You wanted space. I gave it to you," he said.

Diana lunged towards him again, fisting her hands in his uniform, ready to throw him through another wall. Scarlet covered fingers wrapped around her wrist and squeezed. She didn't even look at the offender who was touching her. All she could focus on was Clark and hurting him like he had hurt her.

"Both of you get a grip," Flash said. "You can fight later, when he's better."

They all turned to look back at Bruce. Her anger with Clark immediately evaporated, replaced with anxiety and fear. Her throat constricted, and her eyes stung with unshed tears.

"What's wrong with him, J'onn?" she asked, voice cloudy.

"We were unable to capture Ra's, but he escaped only minutes before we arrived. Because he didn't have the time to destroy his facility, we were able to find information on Batman's whereabouts. He was being kept in a shack in a South American jungle. On one of Ra's's compounds. They were monitoring him via satellite."

"Did they torture him?"

"They didn't need to. He was submerged in a Lazarus Pit, and he is now suffering from fits of madness. His memory is gone as well."

Diana closed her eyes, overcome with relief. Though it was horrible news, Bruce was alive. That was all that mattered. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she asked, "I thought the Lazarus Pit killed healthy people. How is he still alive?"

"According to the information we found at Ra's headquarters, the pits can be modified. Some have been changed to induce mind-control; we are assuming this is what happened to the one Batman was placed in. The loss of memory would help in shaping his mind," J'onn said.

"Then why was he left alone for so long?" Wally asked.

"I can only assume it was at the request of Ra's daughter. She was probably going to come to him eventually, once the madness wore off," J'onn said.

"Why?" Wally said.

"I don't know," J'onn replied.

Diana wasn't certain, but she had a guess. She knew of Talia's obsession with Bruce. It was both easy and difficult to believe that Talia would take Bruce's past from him, just so he would want to be with her. A desperate woman would do anything to be with her love, even destroying him. But that wasn't love; it was control.

A twinge of pity thrummed through Diana. Bruce had told her of Talia, how she slavishly yearned for her father's affection. A father who routinely took advantage of his daughter's desire to please him to further his own goals. Perhaps for Talia, control was love.

"How long will it take before the effects wear off?" Diana asked.

"I can't say. But I think we may have aggravated his problems. The change in environment has caused a shock to his system. Not so much physically, but mentally," J'onn replied.

"How do we get his memory back to him? Can you enter his mind? Reestablish the connections?" Diana said.

"I have tried to enter his mind to calm him, but in his current state, it is impossible. He has repeatedly blocked me. Batman's mind was always difficult to see into, but now it's impossible. And his efforts to resist me only make him worse," J'onn said.

"So that's why I'm here? To trigger one of his memories? To tell him of his past?" Diana said.

"The recovery of his memory will be a slow process. We will have to tell him of his past, but not all at once. It has to be gradual, when he is in the correct state of mind to receive information. To try and force a return of his memory might permanently ruin him," J'onn said.

Diana felt as helpless as Bruce looked. "But you made it sound like there was something I could do. Why am I here?" she said.

"You're here," Clark answered, his eyes narrowed and voice accusing, "because he keeps calling for you."

* * *

**To Be Continued**


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Still own nothing.

Still have an awesome beta. KN: LOL, Joaquian Phoenix he is not. Thank goodness. Goodnight, puny human! :D

* * *

**Madly**

**Chapter Eight:**

**Apologies**

* * *

After Clark's revelation, the three men exited the room, leaving Diana alone with Bruce for the first time in almost two years.

She wasn't even given time to think about all the recent developments, because a few moments later Bruce began to stir.

Diana opened the cell, closing it behind her. Walking up to his bed, she sat down on the floor beside his cot, setting down the rag and bowl of cold water she had brought with her.

His temperature readouts were too high, so she pulled his blanket off and began unbuttoning his shirt, which had twisted around his writhing form.

She stared down at the familiar sight of his body, eyes wide with shock. His torso was bare in every sense of the word. Unbelieving, she reached out, trailing her hands over a chest and stomach that were completely devoid of scars. She remembered how it was before; the smoothness of his skin felt wrong to her touch.

He stirred again, groaning, and she snatched her hands away. Quickly soaking the rag in the water, she wrung it before applying it to his forehead. As she moved his long hair out of his face, the growth of his beard rasped against her wrist.

"It's alright, Bruce. I'm here." she said, unable to help herself, but convinced he couldn't even hear her.

His eyes snapped open, and he stared at her a second, not moving a muscle.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she held up her hand. "Wait, let me get you something to drink."

When she came back into the cell with a glass of water, he was sitting on his cot, feet on the ground with his blanket held up against his chest.

"Here," she said, offering him the glass, but he didn't take it immediately. The cup felt heavy in her hand. She was tired, and the look of distrust in his eyes hurt her. It had been some time since he had looked at her that way, had looked at her at all. She had forgotten how much it hurt.

Squeezing the glass in her hand, she sighed. "Please take this. You're dehydrated. I don't want you to get sick." Diana moved the glass closer to his face, but he brushed it gently aside.

"Is it really you?" he asked.

"Drink first. Questions later."

He took the glass and gulped the liquid down in seconds. "Now tell me," he ordered.

"Yes, it's really me."

"Tell me your name." His intensity scared her, and she worried that she would further upset him if she didn't answer.

"Diana."

"And…are we friends?"

How was she supposed to answer that question? He didn't remember, didn't know the hell he had put her through. They hadn't been friends for a while, but something kept her from telling him that. Again, J'onn's words came back to her, and she tried to answer in a way that Bruce expected. She needed to gain his trust.

Swallowing down her pain and anger, she said, "Yes, we're friends."

She watched him grip the edge of his cot, his perfect arms tensing as he pushed off the bed. He took a step. Then another, until finally he was standing only inches from her.

"Why didn't you come sooner?" he asked.

"I didn't know you were here. Otherwise I would have." Diana bit down on the inside of her lip, stifling its tremble before speaking. "I'm sorry."

"Are we…are we in love with each other?" Bruce asked, barely over a whisper.

Hera, this wasn't fair. She was with Tom. She wanted to be happy with Tom. And yet, if she answered the question the way Bruce wanted to, she knew she wouldn't be lying. At least on her end. Speech was impossible; she could hardly suppress the sob in her throat. With tear-stained eyes, she simply nodded, all the while trying not to look at him.

His hand went to hers, gently taking it between his fingers, almost as if he feared she would disappear before his eyes. After a second, he raised her hand to his face, rubbing his bearded cheek against her palm. It was surreal.

Her knees felt as if they would give out from under her, but it didn't matter, because his arms were now wrapped around her, holding her tight against his body. He had lost weight, but he was still powerful enough to squeeze the air out of her. And if his bear hug were not enough to rob her of oxygen, the feel of his mouth against her neck and lips sufficed.

"I thought I would never see you again," he rasped against her jaw.

In utter shock, she looked into his eyes, trying to ignore the racing of her heart. A clammy hand was in her hair, pulling on the dark strands as he caressed the side of her face. "I'm sorry," he brushed his lips against hers, "I'm sorry I left you. Say you forgive me."

She had waited almost two years for him to apologize, and now that he said it she didn't know what to do. She just stood there, her mouth hanging open.

He leaned in, resting his nose against her cheek. "Tell me you forgive me," he demanded.

And then he was kissing her again.

This was wrong. It was wrong on so many levels, but she closed her eyes and let him kiss her till he stopped.

Except he didn't. When his hands moved to her hips, started a slow trek upwards, she knew she would have to be the one to put an end to this. Waiting one last second, she took his hands and pulled back. She tried to smile, but it felt like someone was tearing her up from the inside out. "Batman, I'm glad you're back. And that your memories are beginning to return."

His head tilted to the side, eyes narrowed. "Why did you call me that? I'm Bruce."

"Because you told me to…" Diana's argument died on her lips, as J'onn's warning reasserted itself. But she was confused; did Bruce only selectively remember that he had broken up with her?

No, it couldn't be that. J'onn said all of his memory had been wiped. How was it that he seemed to remember her? That meant…

Diana took a step back, the reality of the situation crashing down on her. Bruce remembered nothing of his previous life, except her. But it wasn't really her, just some hallucination of herself brought about by the induced madness of the Lazarus Pit.

Diana steered him back to his cot, needing to get out of the confines of this room as soon as possible. "Lie down. You aren't in any shape to be getting out of bed."

She expected him to argue, but he only grabbed her hand and sat her down next to him. He turned her hand over, bringing her palm to his mouth. "I can't believe you found me," he said.

His eyes were full of adoration for her, just as they used to be. But Bruce had never been this vocal or demonstrative in his affections towards her. It was both beautiful and terrible. She had wanted this openness, and now to finally have it made her spirit pulse with joy. But it was false; she couldn't ignore that Bruce wasn't himself. None of this was real. It was like having her heart broken all over again.

It was too much. Not wanting him to see her cry, she gently retracted her hand and stood to leave. "You need to sleep. I promise I'll come back when you wake up."

She turned to walk away, but his voice arrested her. "Don't leave me." The words were filled with desperation, so unlike the confident and assured man she had known. She couldn't leave him like this, but at the same time, she hated seeing him in this condition.

Diana couldn't stop herself. Everything that had happened—their breakup, the loneliness, his disappearance, her relationship with Tom, and now this, seeing Bruce stripped of himself and madly in love with her—she just wasn't strong enough to handle it. She felt her lip quiver, and then the tears were falling down her face.

And then he was standing, embracing her in his arms, leading her back to the cot. She was too weak to protest, and she didn't want to. Soon she was folded in his arms, her head resting against his chest. As she silently wept, he murmured into her hair.

She fell asleep to a chorus of 'I love you's.

* * *

**To Be Continued**


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Thanks again, Kipling, for beta-ing this! **

* * *

Chapter Nine**

* * *

Diana's eyes snapped open at the sound of her communicator going off. Disoriented by waking up in a room that was not her own, she was further startled by the pair of hands tightening around her waist. And then it all came back. She was with Bruce.

The incessant beeping of her com link broke through, and she answered it, voice still tinged with sleep. "Yes?" she whispered, not wanting to wake Bruce.

"Why are you whispering?"

It was Tom.

Diana tried not to panic. "Can I call you back later?" she asked.

"This isn't because of what I said last night is it?"

"No, but I can't talk right now."

"Alright. I'll see you later." Tom didn't sound as if he believed her, and what was worse, he was hurt.

"Bye," she said.

Her back felt absolutely rigid, and her body stiffened further as Bruce rubbed his nose against the nape of her neck.

"Who was that?" he asked.

"His name is Tom," she said, very quietly.

"How do you know him?"

"He works with the League sometimes."

"You never mentioned the League before. What is it?"

Diana turned over to face him. Because of the dark, she could barely make out that his eyes were still closed. She wanted to touch his face, confirm that he was really there, but she held back. She had a job to do, namely collecting information about what happened during his disappearance.

"Bruce, tell me what it was like before we met."

He didn't speak until his fingers were laced with hers. Sensing he needed the support, she squeezed his hand.

"I remember waking up to voices. I couldn't understand what they were saying. Then there was light, and I saw two men."

"Would you be able to recognize them if you saw them again?"

"I don't know."

The retelling was already taking a lot out of him. His palm felt sticky in hers, and she wondered if she was pushing him too hard. Placing her free hand against his face, she tried to speak soothingly, like she would back home when she was gentling a spooked horse. "Bruce, it's alright. What else happened?"

"I don't know…One of them left, and then the other jabbed me with something sharp, and I passed out. The next thing I remember was sounds."

"Like what?"

"A loud screeching. Blasts. Screams. Low whispers, but with words I couldn't understand. The sound of flesh hitting flesh…They come almost every night. I don't know why they won't go away."

A chill went down Diana's spine, and she moved closer to him. Without knowing it, he was reliving his nightmares. Gunshots, his mom's body falling on top of his father's, bats screeching and fluttering about his head. Diana thought it unbelievably cruel that even when he shouldn't have been able to remember them, his dreams found a way of haunting him.

The cot was shaking from the trembling of Bruce's large frame, and Diana held him close, trying to calm him. "It's alright. Let's talk about something else. Will you tell me how we met?"

"You just came to me one night when I was going out of my mind. I opened my eyes and you were there. You held me. Talked to me."

She waited a few minutes, mindlessly rubbing his back. He needed to calm down, and to be honest, she did too. Of all the people he could have conjured up, why had he chosen her? Part of her thought she knew, but she had been confident about matters concerning Bruce before, only to find out that she could not have been more wrong. She wasn't the type to make the same mistake twice.

"What did I say?" she asked, when his breathing returned to normal.

"At first I couldn't understand you. But you kept coming back. You would tell me that everything would be alright. You were the one who told me to get out and get some food. You would tell me to go to sleep."

Was it possible that those nights she had spent visualizing herself helping Bruce had actually worked something magical? While she didn't know, she said a brief prayer of thanks to her goddesses that she had been there to help him in some small way.

"Was that all we talked about?" she asked.

The darkness made it nearly impossible to see him, but they were so close she could feel and anticipate his every movement. The bed shifted as he leaned towards her.

"No." He briefly claimed her lips, pulling back just a little to say, "You told me you loved me. That you would be with me forever."

Diana's eyes fluttered shut as his mouth found hers in the darkness again. This really needed to stop, but she couldn't bring herself to end it.

Without warning the lights flickered on, and they both sat up, startled.

Before she could do anything, Bruce pushed her behind him and glared at the intruder. Under better circumstances, Diane would have found Bruce's instant dislike to Superman amusing.

"I take it you two got a good night's sleep," Superman said, his voice edged with ice.

"What do you want?" Bruce snarled.

"Nothing. I came here to bring breakfast."

Sliding open the door, he brought in a tray of food. Diana took it, knowing Bruce needed to eat. She and Clark would settle their issues later.

Bruce turned to her, no doubt surprised she took the food.

"You know him? Is this Tom?" he asked.

"No, I'm not Tom," Clark said, his voice tight. "My name is Superman."

Bruce looked over at Diana for confirmation. "It's true. Superman is a friend. To both of us. He is going to help you regain your memory."

"I don't want his help," Bruce said.

Ignoring the look of hurt on Clark's face, Diana said, "Thank you for the food."

He nodded grimly. "You're welcome. J'onn and I will return in an hour, and there will be someone else joining us."

"Who?" they both asked.

"Alfred."

* * *

**To Be Continued**


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

* * *

As soon as Superman left the room, Bruce asked, "Who is Alfred?"

It seemed that the task of revealing information had been given to her. No doubt J'onn thought it worth the risk. Bruce couldn't stay in the cell as he recuperated.

"Do you trust me?" she asked.

"You're the only person I can trust."

The unreserved confidence with which he made that statement twisted her heart. Trust had been a big issue between them before. And now this man who looked and talked exactly like Bruce was offering her the very thing he had withheld from her for so long. But, she reminded herself, he wasn't really Bruce. Not until he had his memories back.

She tried to keep her face and voice poised and professional. "Good. Now I want you to eat while I tell you some things about yourself."

He picked at his food as she sat, trying to figure out where she should start and what she should reveal. It didn't seem wise to tell him the Diana of his mind had been a hallucination. She would have to proceed carefully. "We knew each other before I came to you in the jungle."

"I figured that, since I knew to call for you when I was sick."

"Right. We first met because we are both members of a league of superheroes. It is why they keep calling you Batman, because even though you are Bruce, you are also him."

"And Superman?"

"He is another League member. There are many of us, but we are all part of the original seven who founded the League. Besides us, there is Flash (he was the one in the red), the Martian Manhunter (he is the green one), Green Lantern, and Hawkgirl."

Bruce nodded his head, still trying to eat.

"You decided to become Batman when you were younger and spent your youth training to become him."

Bruce swallowed his food, and she stopped talking, anticipating his question.

"If I'm a superhero, what are my powers? I don't feel any. Or did I forget those too?"

"You are unique. You are without any extra powers, but you have trained extensively in many different fighting styles, all those known on earth and then some. And you are an extremely intelligent man. The smartest man I know and one of the smartest in the world."

"You never told me you had powers," he said, almost suspiciously.

She briefly wondered why he would imagine her without powers, but now wasn't the time. "I can fly and heal quickly. I am extremely strong. There are other powers I have as well, but we can discuss those later."

His eyes swept over her, and she swore she saw the characteristic glint of him sizing her up. It was a welcome sight. The only life he could remember consisted of conversations with her, sleeping, eating, and drinking. His life didn't have to be about survival anymore. And it was such a relief for her to see that, when put in a new context, his mind was as sharp as ever.

"You didn't wear that before," he said.

"And what did I wear?"

"I'm the one with amnesia. Why don't you tell me?"

"Bruce, please, just answer my question."

"A white dress."

"It was probably my chiton. What I am wearing now is my Wonder Woman uniform. That is what I am known as to those who don't call me Diana."

"Wonder Woman?"

"Yes, and occasionally Princess."

"Is that what the tiara is for?"

"Yes. I am the princess of my people, the Amazons, but that's not important at the moment. All I will say is that my uniform is a gift of my goddesses and represents the people of my country, Themyscira."

Bruce set his fork down. "So if I have no powers, how is it that my body doesn't have any marks on it? I can't imagine I would be able to fight crime without powers and sustain no injuries."

Diana eyes looked once again at his unmarred skin. It was beautiful.

"You lost your memory and began having these fits of madness because someone placed you in what is called a Lazarus Pit. But there were other side effects. It has made you younger, prolonged your life, and made the scars you used to have on your body disappear."

Bruce looked down at his chest, flexed his arms out in front of him. "Did I have many?"

She remembered the first time she had seen them all and tried not to blush. His body had been covered with them.

"Yes."

"I'm not quite sure I understand how I was able to help your League."

"_Our_ League, Bruce. Apart from being the best hand-to-hand combatant on the planet, you are a master of disguises and a brilliant detective and strategist. Because of you we have tracked down many criminals. And you provided the money to create this building we are now in."

"And how much money would a building like this cost to make?"

Diana walked over to the window and beckoned him to follow her. Standing next to each other, they peered out of the circular porthole, staring down at the green and blue orb below. "We are currently orbiting thousands of miles above Earth. Both of our homes are down there."

"How can I afford this?"

"You inherited a fortune, which you have multiplied many times over as the CEO of Wayne Enterprises."

"Wayne Enterprises?"

"Yes. You're Bruce Wayne, prince of Gotham City and Batman. You have billions of dollars to your name, and an enormous Manor home. You even have a butler named Alfred, though he's more like a father to you."

"And my real father?"

"He was murdered when you were eight, as was your mother. It actually happened right in front of you."

He braced his hand against the wall and continued staring down at Earth. "I don't remember any of this."

"I know this is a lot to take in," she said gently.

Bruce shrugged. "Diana, may I ask you something?"

He looked over at her, and Diana nodded her head, wondering why he would preface his question by asking her permission. He hadn't before. Her heart raced with foreboding.

"We lived together in the jungle. Was that always the case?"

Diana swallowed, unsure of how she should answer him. "We didn't live together before you disappeared."

"And now? Will you be staying with me?" He wasn't looking at her, but she could see he was uncomfortable asking the question. It was odd seeing him so vulnerable, so unlike himself.

Going against every nurturing instinct inside her, she answered, "I don't know if I should." Things were already so complicated. This could only make it worse.

"If I'm a billionaire, I'm sure I have plenty of spare rooms. You wouldn't have to stay with me all the time."

"But I have duties as an ambassador. I live in the Themysciran Embassy in Gateway City. I…"

Bruce turned from the window and walked back to his cot. "I understand."

She should have left it at that, but she couldn't leave Bruce by himself. The reasons why were innumerable, and it would be too dangerous to examine them closely, so she didn't.

"Bruce, I'll stay with you. Until you ask me to leave or until you get better. Whichever comes first."

His smile was brilliant and beautiful. In an instant, he was back on his feet, embracing her in his arms. "You promised me forever, and I'm going to hold you to that. I will never ask you to leave."

But Diana knew he already had, and if he regained his memories, it probably wouldn't be long before he'd kick her out again, and then blame her for not telling him the truth earlier.

She was being foolish, but Bruce needed her. She would just have to set boundaries and tell him more about what had happened when he was ready for it. And it was a good thing he wasn't ready, because she knew that she wasn't anywhere close to being able to lose him again.

* * *

**To Be Continued**


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Thanks for still reading. =D

* * *

**Chapter 11**

* * *

Bruce stood and stared at the older man before him. He was tall, only a couple inches shorter than Bruce, and in possession of a thin frame. What little hair the man had was gray, lending him a distinguished air, which was added to by his black suit. Next to Bruce in his bedraggled state and Diana in her superhero uniform, the butler looked completely out of place, and yet it did not seem to faze him in the slightest.

"It is good to see you again, Master Bruce." The man held out a briefcase toward him. "A change of clothes, and a few other items, including a razor."

"Thank you…Alfred." Taking the case, Bruce sat down on his cot and after a few seconds of playing with the locks the lid popped open. On top of a crisp, white oxford shirt rested two pictures. The first was of a young boy with two adults. Obviously it was important; otherwise Alfred would not have put it there. But the picture meant nothing to him; it was like looking at strangers. He was grateful Diana was behind him, her hands a reassuring presence on his back.

"The one on top is of you and your parents, Thomas and Martha Wayne," Alfred said.

Bruce slowly put it back in the briefcase. The second picture depicted the same little boy many years later, but with a younger version of the man before him.

"That was taken during your college graduation, sir."

Bruce stared down at the photos in disbelief. That he could have a whole life, one that was documented by pictures and eyewitness accounts, and yet not remember any of it was mind-boggling. Disturbing.

"Are you alright?" Diana asked, leaning over his shoulder. Her hair brushed against his face, and he closed his eyes. Slowly inhaling the familiar scent of her hair, he forced himself to calm down. "Yes."

Finally steadied, he opened his eyes just in time to see Alfred glance away from him and Diana.

Bruce cleared his throat. He had a request to make of Alfred, but not knowing what kind of relationship he had with him made it difficult to ask.

"I would like you to prepare a room for Diana in the Manor." Bruce looked over at the guest in question, who gave him an encouraging smile. "She will be staying with me indefinitely."

He saw the older man's eyes flit over to Diana, confusion and happiness visible in his blue orbs.

"Of course, sir. When should I expect the two of you?"

Again, Bruce deferred to Diana. "J'onn will probably want to run a few more tests, and after that I need to stop by the Embassy and gather a few of my things. So in about three hours," she said.

"I will have dinner ready and waiting for your arrival."

"Thank you, Alfred."

"It is my pleasure, Master Bruce." Then butler gave a brief bow of his head and left the room.

When he was gone, Bruce searched through the rest of the brief case. There was a pair of slacks, socks, underwear, shoes, and a toiletry kit, along with the shirt.

"Do you have any questions?" Diana asked from over his shoulder.

"If I'm as brilliant as you say, I should probably be able to figure it out."

"See, you don't need me after all," Diana said, her lips twisting once again in a smile.

It was meant as a joke, but he couldn't see the humor in it. He had known what it was like to be without her. The very idea caused the ache in his chest to flare again, and he set the briefcase down, pulling Diana into his arms. Desperate to forget the horror of those few days he thought he had lost her, he pressed his mouth to hers, sighing against the certainty of her lips. The relief was instant. She clung to him, and he knew she had been just as distraught as he was at their separation.

When he drew back, he rested his forehead against hers. "I couldn't do this without you. I couldn't do anything without you."

"And here I thought you'd be able to handle shaving by yourself." Diana looked away from him, and to his ears, her laughter sounded forced. He couldn't blame her. Everything was changing so quickly. The least he could do was play along.

"I was actually thinking of keeping the beard. Alfred seemed to like it."

Diana pulled away. "Really?"

He shook his head, smiling fondly at her. "No." He was quite certain Alfred despised his disheveled appearance. The not so subtle mention of the razor practically screamed his disapproval.

"Good. It keeps scratching my face." Diana blinked, and a faint pink stole over her cheeks, but this time she did not look away.

An overwhelming surge of gratitude coursed through him, and he tiredly relaxed against her strong form. Without thinking, he said the first thought that came to his head. "I love you."

When she didn't say it back, he opened his eyes. Hers were shiny and wet, dark and troubled as the sea. "What's wrong?" he asked.

She buried her face in his neck.

"I love you too."

* * *

After the tests with J'onn showed Bruce was stable enough to return to the Manor, Diana and Bruce took her jet to the Embassy.

When she'd landed the plane in the courtyard, she picked him up in her arms. "You're supposed to be out of the country, so we're going to enter through a back entrance."

"Is it necessary for you to carry me like this?"

Diana laughed. "You won't remember this, but you've always hated being carried. I suppose some things never change."

After disembarking off the jet, she flew to the balcony of her room.

Bruce looked over at her in shock once she placed him on his feet. "You're amazing," he said.

Perhaps he had always felt that way about her when he saw her in action, had just never let it show. She tried not to let it affect her too much. "Not wonderful?" she teased.

"That too."

Keying in the access code, Diana pushed the door open. Waving Bruce through, she said, "Welcome to the Themysciran Embassy, though I'm afraid you'll have to wait until later for a proper tour."

Bruce stood back, eyes searching her room the instant they crossed the threshold. She left him to his wanderings as she rummaged through the drawers in her room and bathroom, quickly assembling a bag for an overnight stay in the Manor. She would return for more later.

"Do you need any help?"

"No, I'm almo—"

The sound of someone coming up the stairs set Diana on alert.

"Bruce," she whispered, "Go to the bathroom." She motioned quickly with her hands the direction he was to go.

A knock on her door came soon after that.

"Who is it?" she asked

"Tom."

Diana shut her eyes and uttered a quick prayer to her goddesses. This was not good.

"Just a second," she said. "I'm coming." After zipping up her overnight bag, she walked over to the door and let him in.

He held a beautiful bouquet of flowers, her favorites, in his hand. Leaning in towards her, he gave her a kiss on the cheek. "I didn't know you were going to be here. I was just going to drop these off."

"Who let you up here?"

"Susan."

"Oh." She knew Tom and her secretary got along well, but then Tom got along with everyone.

"No need to be jealous," he said, smiling.

"I'm not," she said, matter-of-factly. Too distracted by Bruce, Diana was incapable of recognizing Tom's humor.

Looking down, Tom noticed her bag. "Going somewhere again? I thought you just got back from your last mission. Surely that's earned you some time off."

There was never going to be an easy way to do this, so it was best to just get it over with. Like setting a broken bone. Diana sat on her bed, hands folded in her lap. "Tom, there are some things we need to talk about."

Tom's smile faded, and he stopped moving. He struck the stance of a soldier, feet shoulder width apart, hands held behind his back. "I'm listening."

Tom knew nothing of Batman's disappearance or return, so to him, her about face would seem like it was coming out of nowhere. Well, maybe not completely out of nowhere. She had been distant in their past phone conversations, and he probably noticed something was off. She hoped so. Maybe then, this wouldn't come as such a surprise.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think we should see each other anymore."

Tom's flowers dropped to his side. "Are you dumping me? For him?"

It was pointless to ask who he was referring to. "Batman and I are not together."

"I should hope not. Not after everything you told me about him. He doesn't deserve you."

Diana cringed, forcing herself not to look back towards the bathroom.

"You're right, he did hurt me. But that's not why I'm breaking up with you. Tom, I can't invest myself any longer in this relationship."

"Diana, you know I'm willing to work through this."

"But I'm not. It wouldn't be right, and if I'm honest, I don't think I can try anymore. Before it was possible, but now…I just can't."

"It's because of him, isn't it?"

"Yes."

Tom inhaled deeply. "Setting aside my feelings, you realize that this is stupid, don't you? You've worked so hard to get past him, and you're just throwing that all away."

"I'm not doing this because he and I are back together. I'm doing this because it is best for all involved."

"So should I expect to hear you two are dating very soon?"

"I can't answer that question, because I don't know."

Tom's shoulders drooped, and Diana's gut churned with guilt. "Tom, I'm sorry. It was wrong of me to begin dating you in the first place. I should have waited till I was truly ready. Maybe if things had been different, we could have worked out, but at this point in time, I have no business being in a relationship with you."

Tom ran his hand through his hair and let out an uncomfortable laugh. "Well, now I feel really embarrassed telling you I love you."

"And I feel horrible not being able to say it back. You are such a wonderful person, but…"

"I'm not him."

"That isn't a bad thing. Under different circumstances--"

"You don't need to explain. In fact, I really don't want to hear it."

Diana nodded her head, sad that she was hurting someone she respected and admired. Taking a step forward to embrace him, she cringed when he moved away from her. It was nothing she didn't deserve. "I'm really sorry. You've always been there for me, and I wish things could be different."

"So do I…I guess this is goodbye, huh?"

"Not unless you want it to be. I value your friendship very much, but I will understand if you no longer wish to be friends."

"I think it's best if we just go our separate ways. Clean break and all that."

Diana nodded her head, unable to speak.

"Goodbye, Diana."

She watched him turn away and head out the door and out of her life. There was sadness, but also relief at his leaving. Everything was over now, with minimal damage done. Still, she felt terrible.

Picking up her bag, she turned to the bathroom to open the door and tell Bruce she was ready to go. But the door was already open a crack, and she realized it had never been closed.

* * *

**TBC**


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

**Chapter 12**

* * *

Bruce stepped out of the bathroom, hands balled into fists.

"So that's Tom."

"Yes." Diana walked towards him, her hands raised in surrender and a frown on her face. It was clear she felt guilty, but that did not lessen his anger one bit. His heart felt like it had been gouged out of his chest, but he was too furious to let her know it. She had been keeping many things from him, and the revelations were growing more and more unpleasant.

"How much did you hear?" she asked.

"Everything."

"Bruce, we will talk about this, but it can't be here. Someone else might come up, and they can't know you're back." Logically, it made sense. The League had told him that Bruce Wayne was supposed to be somewhere in Southeast Asia, not Wonder Woman's bedroom. But he didn't care.

Bruce stalked over to her desk, grabbing the picture of Diana with a man with blond hair he had seen just before he had been ordered into her bathroom. The man—Tom, he corrected—had his arm was around her, and she was smiling. His fingers twitched, longing to hurl the frame across the room. "How long were you with him?" he demanded.

The 'thud' of her bag falling to the floor was followed by the sound of footsteps coming toward him. Taking the frame from his hands, she placed it back on the desk, the photo facing down. "Bruce, we will discuss this later, but now we need to get on the jet."

He made no argument as went to retrieve her things. "Hold my bag?" She didn't wait for his answer, just shoved it into his arms before sweeping him off his feet.

They were back at the plane a few seconds later, and she palmed the air, opening an invisible hatch. Once inside, he could see the innards of the jet. After placing him in one of the passenger's chairs, she took the pilot seat and prepared for take-off, only speaking to let him know they were now on their way to Wayne Manor.

After about forty-five minutes of silence, she spoke up again. "I'm going through one of the back entrances, and I will be parking my jet in the cave."

Bruce didn't reply. He didn't want to talk to her, not until he could process through the all the information and doubts that suddenly surrounded the woman next to him.

Is that where she had gone during the days while he had been left alone to fend for himself in the jungle? Flying into the arms of this other man? Why had she not told him of her powers? Or of his skills? Why had she let believe he was weak until now? Why had she kept him in the jungle for so long, when she could have flown him to safety?

It wasn't long before they were approaching a large mansion made of stone. Her jet traveled about a mile away from what was apparently his manor and began hovering over a certain spot in a copse of trees. Darkness swallowed the jet as it sank into the ground. The engine had stopped roaring, and they were now being conveyed through a dimly lit corridor.

It was difficult to see exactly where they were now. Everything was so dark. Even what was lit up was horribly unfamiliar.

"I'm surprised I still have landing privileges," she said, taking his hand. "It's a bit confusing down here. I'll help you."

He wasn't sure he wanted her help. Releasing her hand, he took her bag instead. "Lead the way."

Bruce could hear her sigh, but he ignored it. He had trusted her with everything, hadn't even asked for it to be justified. And she had ripped his heart out. It wouldn't happen again.

"Watch your step," she said.

As soon as they walked out of the jet, Bruce was hit by a chill air. Up above his head somewhere, he could hear a light fluttering. One of the sounds from his nightmare. He gripped the handles of the bag tightly, trying to ignore the beads of sweat forming on his brow.

Staring at her back, he followed her through the gargantuan cavern. It seemed to go on for ages and was filled with the strangest objects. A humongous coin, a gallery of costumes, a monstrous screen. And many other things he couldn't put a name to. And then she was leading him up a staircase.

Once at the top, she pushed against the wall and they were inside what he presumed was the Manor. It wasn't what he would call light and airy, but it was better than the oppressive atmosphere of the cave.

Once he walked out into the hall, she closed the opening, which was concealed by a grandfather clock. Looking at him, she said, "If you want to go back down there, all you need to do is place the minute and hour hand right here." She twisted the hands, so that the clock showed 10:47, and it sprang open from the wall.

"Seems like you know this place well," he said snidely.

"You could say that." She closed the clock again and began walking down the hall.

He did not know what to expect when she had told him he had a Manor, but it was difficult to conceive just how large his estate was. And how he spent all his money.

He was pulled from his ruminations by Diana. "I'll show you to your old room."

They were now in a grand entryway, and Alfred appeared out of one of the hallways.

"Welcome home, Master Bruce…and Princess Diana. I have placed you in the room across from his. Your meal is awaiting you in the dining room."

Diana smiled at the butler. "Thank you, Alfred. We'll just get settled in first."

"Very good." And then the old man disappeared back down the hall he came from.

Bruce followed her up a wide staircase to the second level of his home, then stopped at the fourth door on the right side of the hallway. Pushing open the door, she let him in first.

The room was dominated with dark browns and blues; it was clean, stark. Like everything else in the Manor, it was large.

She started to follow him in, but he stopped her. "I want to be alone."

It was getting harder to ignore the increasing hurt he saw on her face. Perhaps he should speak with her, hear her side of the story.

But she didn't say anything, just accepted it. "I'm beginning to think that my staying here isn't a good idea. Maybe I should go. Is that what you want?"

He should say yes, but that would be impossible He was angry with her, but had never considered her leaving. The idea filled him with panic. He forced himself to take a few calming breaths as he decided how to answer her. . If only he didn't feel so damned helpless! But he did, and he needed her.

"Diana…"

"Yes?" she answered, taking a step forward.

"That's not what I want." he said, embarrassed by the sound of pleading in his tone. "Please…don't leave."

She placed her hand on his shoulder, staring at him earnestly. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have taken you to the Embassy."

He could not think straight with her so close to him. Walking over to his bed, he sat down and watched Diana, who remained rooted at the entrance to his room. "I don't understand. You were with me every day; you never mentioned him."

She opened her mouth, and quickly closed it. His irritation grew with her continued silence.

"What is it?" he snapped.

"Bruce, I have something very important to tell you, but I'm worried that if I do, you won't handle it well."

He was without his memory. He was a stranger in his house who had to rely on the help of other strangers. Add to that, his parents were dead. And worst of all, the only person he could remember, the woman he loved, had been seeing another man behind his back.

"I don't think there is anything else you could tell me that would make me feel any more badly than I already do," he said, laughing bitterly.

He saw her take a deep breath before she walked over to him. Sitting beside him, she braced her hands on her knees and stared forward. When she finally looked back at him, her eyes were filled with pity and fear. Her hand darted out to his face, and he tried not to flinch at her touch. She was beginning to scare him.

"Bruce, I'm sorry, but that wasn't me with you in the jungle."

* * *

**TBC**


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

**Chapter 13**

* * *

Bruce gripped the bed, certain he would topple over without the support.

"But you look exactly like her. I spoke with you, I could feel you."

"I wasn't there, though. I never was."

"So I imagined everything?" Bruce remembered their reunion in the Watchtower, kissing her, telling her he loved her. How stupid she must think him. Stupid and insane. "You were just a hallucination?"

She nodded her head, touched his shoulder, but he shrugged her hand off. "I don't want your pity."

Utterly drained of resources, Bruce held his head in his hands. "Why did you let me believe that you were there?"

"J'onn said it wouldn't be wise to discuss the past with you. And you needed me."

Bruce felt disgusted with himself. "I'm sorry for…" He could not come up with the words to finish his statement because there were so many. _Sorry for throwing myself at you, for making you feel uncomfortable and guilty, for forcing you to take care of me_.

"Don't be sorry, Bruce. You couldn't have known."

"So everything was made up?"

Diana shook her head. "I wasn't there with you, but I...I think you were drawing from some past memories."

"Was I in love with you? Before?"

Again, Diana shook her head, clasping her hands together in her lap. "I don't know."

He couldn't imagine being in love with her in his past life and not telling her. After all, he'd been falling all over her like a fool and seemed incapable of not confessing his love for her, both in the jungle and on the Watchtower. But part of him hoped he had only fallen in love with a hallucination and not the real thing. It didn't make this situation any less embarrassing, but if the relationship had only been a figment of his imagination, maybe then he wouldn't feel so betrayed.

"Were we together before I disappeared?"

"At one point, yes."

"And did you ever love me?"

Her eyes were wet with tears, and she was gripping her hands so tightly, her knuckles had gone white. "Yes," she finally answered.

"Then why were you with Tom and not with me?" he asked, confused and still angry.

Her head jerked to the side as if he'd slapped her, and she glared at him. The sudden motion caught him off guard, but he glared back. _He_ was not the one who had a hidden relationship. And _he _was not the one who had lied about what had really been happening these past nine months. She had no right to be upset.

"You broke up with me a year before you disappeared. You were gone for nearly nine months. I started dating Tom three months ago," she said through clenched teeth.

"And were you happy?" he asked, his voice filled with sarcasm.

"That isn't really any of your business," she coldly said, no longer looking at him.

"These past nine months I have done nothing but sleep, live, and breathe you!" he snarled, regretting the words nearly the instant they left his mouth. True as that statement was, none of it had been real. And yet, it had been real to him. Cursing out loud, he jumped to his feet, needing to put some distance between them.

Trying to regain his composure, he resumed questioning her. "So if I've been hallucinating this whole time, why did you end things with Tom?"

She raised her chin defiantly. "I didn't want to be with Tom anymore. Any more questions or can we finally go to dinner?"

He remembered the conversation between Tom and her at the Embassy. Everything pointed to her wanting to be with him. But for what reason? And if she broke up with Tom to be with him, why was she acting so coldly towards him?

His heart pounding in his chest, he asked, "Why are you here? With me?"

Her face looked pained, and when she answered, the words sounded strangled. "I don't know."

What hope he'd had left him. "Diana, if you are doing this because you think I can't handle being without you, don't."

"I want you to get better."

Just how far was she willing to go to do that? The words they had exchanged at the Watchtower came back to him full force, only this time they made him feel awful.

"When you said you loved me on the Watchtower, was that a lie?"

She didn't answer.

Bruce sighed. "I'm not going to get better if you pretend to be some figment of my imagination just for my sake."

Diana slowly stood to her feet. The icy veneer she had been projecting cracked, and suddenly she looked extremely sad and defeated. "The only thing I've been pretending is that you are actually in love with me."

"So you still…?" his throat dried up, making further speech impossible.

"Yes, _I _love you." Her answer sounded more like a grudging admission, and he couldn't ignore the hint of accusation in her voice either. Was it perverse that the very words that seemed to make her miserable made him ecstatic? He didn't really care.

He had no past apart from what he'd shared with her in the jungle, and even though it hadn't been real, the present reality was better than anything he had ever imagined. And as for his future, well, he couldn't picture it without her.

Walking over to her, he pulled her into his arms and she didn't protest. Gently rubbing his palm against her cheek, he smiled at her. "There must have been some reason I conjured you out of all the people I knew. It could have been someone else, but it was you." He pressed his lips to hers, keeping the contact light and brief. "It will always be you."

They were so close, he could feel her breathing. It was thready and inconsistent, and as far as he was concerned, an invitation. He leaned in again, claiming her mouth once more.

But this time was different. She drew back, bringing her hands up to his chest before gently pushing him back. He struggled against his confusion. The look of regret on her face was only mildly comforting.

"Bruce, I don't think we should do this."

He waited a few seconds for his mind to clear. "Alright. Whenever you are ready, just let me know."

"No, Bruce. You are the one who needs to be ready. You need to have your memories back before you can make this decision. Because there was a reason you ended things before, and I don't want to get hurt when you remember what it is and pull away again."

"That's not going to happen."

"I need you to stop saying those things. For both our sakes, we need some distance."

He held his breath, waiting for her to define what exactly she meant by distance. He hoped it was nothing more than the five feet that separated his door from the guest room.

Her eyes were clear and her jaw set with purpose. Whatever she would be saying, it was clearly nonnegotiable.

"I will stay here, but we sleep in separate rooms, and we wait till you remember who you are before we pursue anything."

He could handle that, but there was one thing she wasn't taking into account. "And if my memories never come back?"

"You are the most determined man I know. They will."

"You heard J'onn. That could take years. Diana, I don't want to wait."

"Well, you're going to have to." She must have realized how harsh she sounded, because she gave him a small smile. "Let's get some dinner."

* * *

**TBC**


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

**Chapter 14**

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There were only two words to describe dinner: awkward and tense. Well, actually three. As usual, Alfred had created a sumptuous feast, though it was hard to enjoy because of the white elephant in the room.

Diana had still not settled down from their previous conversation, though she was already regretting having lost her temper. It was not _this_ Bruce she was upset with. She should not have revealed so much to him. Though she would be lying if she denied how good it felt to finally be able to get back at him for what he had done, even in such a small way.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the only thing that was undeniable. Goddesses, she wanted him. Loved him against all reason and against all the facts. She would have to walk a fine line, using her anger to guard her heart, while counting on her affection for Bruce to keep her from lashing out at him.

Because they did not speak, the meal went by quickly. Afterward they went down to the Batcave, and Alfred joined them momentarily to demonstrate how to contact the Justice League. The helpful butler left just after they had hailed the Watchtower. After a few moments, the images of J'onn and Superman filled the screen.

Even before greetings could be exchanged, Bruce said, "I need my memory back. What do I need to do?"

It shouldn't have surprised her that now that Bruce had a goal to work toward, he would stop at nothing (or ignore common courtesies) to accomplish it. Diana forestalled J'onn's need to answer by informing him that she had told Bruce that he had been hallucinating on the island. This brought up a round of thorough questioning from the Martian, and she had barely finished answering when Bruce asked his question again.

"I'm not sure there is anything that can be done other than to wait," J'onn answered.

"That's not good enough. I have billions of dollars at my disposal; there must be some kind of treatment out there that will cure me."

J'onn opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Clark, "Even if there is, what doctor is going to administer it? You have a secret identity to maintain. No one can find out you are Batman."

"At this point, I don't care about Batman."

Superman's jaw dropped open, and Diana herself had to stifle a gasp. To hear Bruce say those words was so odd, and in a way bittersweet. His being Batman was the thing that had brought them together. It was also the thing that kept them apart. It had never occurred to her that he would not want to return to being Batman. And if he didn't want to be Batman, the only reason he wanted to have his memory back was so he could be with her. Everything seemed turned upside down on its head. The mission was so important to him, and for Bruce to disregard it so he could be with her did not sit right. Diana rested her hand on his shoulder, willing him to understand the gravity of the situation.

It seemed Clark was of the same opinion as her.

"Bruce," he said, "you might not believe this, but being Batman was the most important thing to you. I won't allow you to ruin your legacy and mission just because you can't remember your past. And there are others that depend on your secrecy."

Yes, what would happen to Nightwing, Batgirl, and Robin if Bruce exposed their identifies to some physician in a bid to gain back his past? But now wasn't the time to bring this argument up. He didn't even know who Nightwing, Batgirl, and Robin were.

"I wasn't aware I needed your permission to live my life," Bruce snapped back.

Given Bruce's distrust of Superman, Diana knew he wouldn't listen. She tightened her grip on his shoulder, and said, "Superman is right."

Bruce looked up at her, and she could tell he was stunned. But it didn't deter him. "My priorities have changed," he said.

"It seems Diana's have as well," Superman said.

Even through the screen she could feel Clark's eyes on her, condemning her. Stubbornly, she lifted her chin, kept her hand on Bruce's shoulder. She had nothing to be embarrassed about. Besides, this was what Clark wanted. When would he make up his mind?

She and Clark would eventually need to talk and come to some sort of truce. Diana had enough issues to deal with without pointlessly arguing with one of her closest friends.

Thankfully J'onn chose that moment to rejoin the conversation. "Given that Bruce was able to satisfactorily cope with the information you have already shared with him, I think it would be beneficial to have him resume his daily routine. The repetition and habits may trigger his memories."

"He's in no shape to resume being Batman," Diana argued.

"While that is true, he could start training again; that is, if he's up for it." J'onn paused and looked over at Bruce, "What are your thoughts on this matter?"

"In your opinion, J'onn, is this the best way for me to recover my memory?"

"Yes."

"I'll do whatever it takes."

"Good. I think you should begin by familiarizing yourself with the people who know you best."

Diana felt Bruce shift under her hand and realized he didn't know who those people were. And it seemed he had assumed more of his pride back. He wasn't going to ask, especially not in front of Superman.

Well, she could speak for him. "We'll work on it and report back to you within the next three days."

The two men in the Watchtower nodded their heads and then the screen went dark.

Diana and Bruce stood there staring at the blank screen. The noises of the cave filled the silence, and for a second she pretended that the last year and nine months hadn't occurred, that they had all been some kind of horrible mistake. He was Bruce and Batman, and she was Diana and Wonder Woman, and they were in his cave working on League business, just as it once had been.

But an illusion was not truth. Both of them would do well to remember that.

"I think we should begin tomorrow, after you've gotten a good night's rest." Diana said, starting for the stairs.

"Why is Superman upset with you?"

Of course he would notice something like that.

"He didn't like that I was dating Tom."

"Perhaps I misjudged him."

The comment irritated her, but she decided to bury it. When Bruce knew all the facts of their past relationship, then they would have a proper discussion. She needed closure, even if they decided to stay together after this whole ordeal.

"You and Clark were very good friends, though getting you to admit it was like pulling teeth."

"What about us?"

"We were close too."

"Closer than me and Clark?"

"Yes."

"What happened to change that?"

"After you broke up with me, we didn't speak much."

"Diana…do you know why I did that?"

"I'm sure it had something to do with being Batman. It's all consuming for you…I probably distracted you from your mission." It wasn't the exact reason, but for all intents and purposes it would do.

"Did I hurt you?"

Diana paused on the steps. She knew the answer; her heart had never been so bruised or battered, but what would be the point in telling him. This wasn't the Bruce that had hurt her, and it wouldn't be fair to burden him with a guilt that belonged to another. Maybe in time, once the old Bruce was back, they could talk about what had happened, but until then, she would keep it to herself.

"It's getting late," she said. "We should get to sleep."

Once back inside the Manor, Diana began to trudge to her room. The day's events had left her drained, and she hadn't gotten much sleep the previous night. Bruce followed her to her door, and when she looked back at him, he wouldn't meet her gaze.

"This is going to be the first night I have spent without you in a long time," he said.

"If you need me, I'm just across the hallway."

He didn't seem convinced, but she wouldn't wait for the inevitable. She had enough sense to know that any invitation he gave her would not be declined.

"Goodnight, Bruce."

Without waiting for a response, she closed the door.

* * *

**TBC**


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I own very, very little.

Thanks for all the reviews you all left me. I hope you like this next bit. =D

* * *

**Chapter 15**

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Diana turned in her bed, checking to see what time it was and barely managing to stifle a snarl when she saw it was past three o'clock. It had been two weeks since she had moved in with Bruce. His memories hadn't returned, and neither had her nights of peaceful slumber.

Every night Bruce had nightmares, and every night she burst into his room. The same sight always greeted her: a sweat-soaked Bruce gasping for breath with his fists clenched in his bed sheets. His fingers would find hers in the dark, and they would sit there in silence, waiting for their heartbeats to return to normal.

The first night, they'd talked about his nightmare. Drawing upon a conversation they'd had when they were dating, Diana was able to explain all the sounds and images. Since the nightmare was always the same, it didn't leave much to talk about. Still, she never left, and he never once questioned why she stayed when they hardly spoke about anything. Just sat there in the darkness, listening to each other breathe as he traced the lines of her clammy palm.

In a word, it was torture. Diana had heard stories of the punishment of Tantalus—having one's desire dangled before you and yet always out of reach. If the gods had ever wondered about its effectiveness as a punishment, she could vouch for it. While Bruce's nightmares interrupted her slumber, it was the image of him bare-chested, glistening, and warm that kept her tossing and turning all night.

Knowing she would not be able to sleep under her own power, Diana turned on the light and got out of bed. Her feet sunk into the lush carpet of her floor as she padded to the desk, where she had left her lasso.

The coils glistened gold at her touch, sending a tremor up her arm and down her spine. From there, the sharp tingling radiated outward to the rest of her body. It was a somewhat painful reminder that she had been neglecting her meditations, and with a sigh, she dutifully wrapped the lasso around herself. While it would be nice to fall asleep, she knew her rest would be more peaceful if she sorted through what had happened over the last fortnight.

Kneeling beside her bed, she opened her heart and mind to the revealing light of the lasso's fire. Some places it burned hot, places where she had buried truths so painful, they still hurt. Other places it merely felt like the warmth of the sun's rays on her skin on a lovely spring day. Unfortunately, it was the former places that needed attention.

At first the recollections were too bright to see. The fire purified the chaff of her memory and perceptions, leaving behind burnished images which hurt to witness. Her mother's face coolly informing her she had been banished. Aresia twisting the Amazon's principles to justify poisoning mankind.

But the images that burned brightest of all where comprised solely of her and Bruce. The moment she realized he liked her. Their first date. Their first real kiss. Other dates and other kisses. Then their first fight as couple, which led to the most brilliant memory of all.

The barrier of time crumbled, taking with it whatever defenses she had built against this sight, against their past.

Diana stood before Bruce, more vulnerable and exposed than she'd ever been in her life. As an Amazon she had been molded for challenge and adversity, but this was an entirely different battlefield, and Bruce was much more experienced in this game. She tried hiding her nervousness, forced herself to meet his gaze, but knew he saw through her the instant he lifted her palm to his mouth and saw her fingers tremble.

Diana expected a smirk or some impertinent remark about her naiveté and inexperience. Instead, he laced his fingers with hers and pulled her against his chest. At first, she stood there frozen and uncertain. But as his free hand traced circles along the length of her spine, she began to relax against him, even rested her head on his shoulder. In his arms, she began to notice what she'd been too nervous to see before. His erratic breathing. The clamminess of his hands. His flushed skin. With nothing but bone and sinew separating them, she could feel his heart. It was beating just as madly as hers.

And that was when she realized, this was not a competition or battle. There would be no losers here. Fortified by this thought, she looked up at him. He gave her a tentative smile, which Diana returned a hundred fold. Then she led him towards his bed.

Bruce's lips moved over her, forming words against her skin. Though he didn't speak them, she was quite certain of what he mouthed, first against her lips, then her throat, and across her collarbone. The same words were in her mouth, but she stopped herself from speaking them. Bruce could not say them, perhaps never would, but that was his way and she accepted it. These silent confessions would have to be enough.

Every time he touched her was like drowning. The tenderness and need of his gaze met with the power and focus of his touch, a convergence of bliss breaking over her, tumbling her so she knew neither up nor down. She was set adrift, completely out of her depth, and yet within the compass of his arms, she knew she was safe.

Suddenly the images shifted. Another fight, actually the same fight that had led to them sleeping together. But it hurt much worse. She had not anticipated that their deeper closeness would cause deeper pain. That he could say such hateful things to her after what they had shared seemed impossible. Yet the man who had made her feel so loved and cherished was not above making her feel small and used.

At first there was no anger, only agonizing pain and regret. She had welcomed him into her heart without any reservations, joined with him so intimately she had not known where she stopped and he began. Unified in this way, their separation was like an amputation. She had been ripped apart, lost pieces of herself that would never be returned. His further withdrawals only added to her misery. It wasn't enough of an insult to treat her as nothing more than a distant colleague. Eventually he stopped showing up at the Watchtower altogether.

As the days passed and the shock wore off, the haze of suffering coalesced into sharp, stabbing claws that tore at her heart and self-worth. Why had she not heeded the lessons of her sisters? Why had she given herself to a man? She had sacrificed her standing in the eyes of Athena, Artemis, and Hestia, and for what? She had failed as a lover and as an Amazon, and she did not know which hurt worse. Still did not know.

And yet, in spite of trying to forget everything she had shared with Bruce, here she was, living across the hall from him. How was it possible? She had every right to abandon him, just as he had abandoned her, but she had not. Why was she letting him dictate her life, just because he had fallen in love with some specter of herself? Was she so needy that it no longer mattered that he loved his idea of her instead of her actual self? And what would Bruce do when he regained his memory? Yell at her for being weak, turn her out of his house?

A sudden yell broke Diana's concentration. The lasso fell from her body, and she snatched it up. Running across the hall, she barged into Bruce's room. He was thrashing in his bed, sheets tangled around his legs. Without a second's hesitation, she went to him, dropping the lasso on his chest as she placed her hands on his face.

"Bruce, wake up," she said. Then again, a little louder.

His eyes snapped open, and his back arched off the bed before falling back down. He stared up into her eyes, mouth agape, but didn't move. He tried to speak, but only nonsense came out.

His nightmares had always been terrible, but they'd never left him like this. Diana looked him over, instantly worried. As the room grew brighter and brighter she realized what it was; the lasso was now wrapped around him, fiery and luminous.

She knew its properties. It had the ability to command truth, to make others obey her. And as she had just experienced, it had the power to dredge up the past.

Instantly, she spoke words of peace. Relief flooded her as she saw his jaw go slack and felt his body lose its rigidity. At her command, the golden coil released him, and he let out a sharp gasp.

Under her hand, his heart raced. She touched his face, swept his hair off his forehead, which was much too warm. "Bruce, are you alright?" Lightly slapping his face, she tried not to panic as he continued to lie there, unresponsive.

She stood up to get help from Alfred. Mid-air and halfway across the bedroom, she stopped at the sound of Bruce groaning.

"Diana?" he rasped.

She flew back and knelt beside him. "It's alright. I'm here." Reaching for the glass of water he kept on his nightstand, she brought it to his lips. More water dribbled down his chin than entered his mouth, but he drank the water greedily.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

Pushing the glass aside, Bruce tried to sit up, but fell back against his pillow. His face was lined with exhaustion. "I think so."

He was lying, but didn't seem to be in any immediate danger, so she continued questioning him.

"What happened?"

"I don't know. I just saw a bunch of images."

"What were they of?" she asked, her voice pitched higher with excitement.

Bruce closed his eyes. It shouldn't have been this hard for him to concentrate. "Never mind," Diana said. "You can tell me later. We need to go to the Watchtower and have J'onn look you over." Diana tried to move her hands under Bruce's arms, but he waved them away. "I'm fine," he grunted. "Just give me a second."

Taking a deep breath, Bruce spoke again, "I saw myself fighting various people. The Joker, Riddler, Bane, Poison Ivy…." Bruce paused, frowning. His fingers traced over his right shoulder, over a scar that was no longer there. "Saw myself get shot."

"But do you remember it?"

"Yes."

She tried not to get her hopes up too high, but this was great news. It wasn't him just memorizing old facts, but actually regaining some of what he'd lost. "Was there anything else?"

He closed his eyes, becoming deathly still. A kind of hush descended on her as she waited, hoping and yet dreading what he would say next.

"Only one thing." His eyes were on her again, piercing and alert. "At the very end, I saw you…us, actually."

Diana forced herself to breathe evenly. "What was it?"

"Just you and me kissing each other. I liked it…and if I'm not mistaken, you did too."

Diana's stomach tumbled over at sound of his voice, but she maintained her composure, knowing he was weighing her every look and word. "What were we wearing?" she asked.

"You were in a dress. I was in a suit."

"Anything else? What color was my dress?"

"Black."

She wanted to push for more, but the effects of the lasso were written on his haggard face. However, she might be able to come up with more information through indirect means. Black wasn't a color she owned much of. She'd have to go back and check her closet at the Embassy. Perhaps from there, she could use the clothing to figure out what kind of memory this was. A date, a funeral.

"What is that?" Bruce asked. Diana followed his line of sight to the golden rope curling around her fingers.

"My lasso of truth."

Bruce rubbed the invisible scorch marks on his chest. "It hurts."

"I'm sorry I let it touch you. Even before, you never liked being around it."

"Does it always wrap itself around people like that?"

"Not normally, no. I command it." That was odd. "I don't know why it did that."

A heavy silence descended between them, like so many times since she had moved in. He took her hand, lightly squeezing it. "I haven't said this often enough, but thank you for being here with me."

She diverted her eyes, laughing uneasily. "That's not true. You say it every day."

He raised her hand to his lips, looking at her as he kissed it. "And still it's not enough."

Words of admonishment were on the tip of her tongue, but before she could voice them, Bruce let go of her hand and pitched forward suddenly, throwing up all over the floor. Diana looked on helplessly as he emptied out the contents of his stomach. Holding his shoulders so he wouldn't fall off the bed, Diana rubbed his skin soothingly, praying this would be over soon.

When he was finished, he fell back on the bed and wiped the back of his hand against his mouth. "Call J'onn now," he said, before promptly passing out.

* * *

**TBC**


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I own very, very little.

Hey, Kipples!

Thanks for all the reviews and for reading! I hope you enjoy this next chapter.

* * *

**Madly:**

**Chapter Sixteen**

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A steady beeping pulled Bruce from sleep. Opening his eyes, he squinted at the bright overhead lights.

"Hey."

Turning his head to the side, he saw Diana smiling anxiously at him. Behind her was a machine, to which he was connected. A green line kept spiking at a steady rate, and he realized it was the source of the sounds.

"Are you feeling better?" she asked.

Bruce pushed himself up to a seated position, falling back on his pillows. "Yes. What happened after I passed out?"

A throat cleared on his other side, and Bruce noticed the Martian Manhunter. "We ran a few tests while you were unconscious. There is nothing out of the ordinary, apart from you regaining some of your memories. You may return home, though you must make sure to rest for the next couple of days. You must also not use the lasso again," the green being said.

"That is not an option. I need my memory back," Bruce argued.

Diana placed a gentle hand on his arm. "Bruce, you only recovered a handful of memories and yet you passed out. If you were to receive back all your memories, there is no telling what kind of damage the lasso would inflict on you. It might cause irreversible damage."

"Or it might heal me," he protested.

"I'm afraid it's out of the question, Batman," the Martian said. "It's too dangerous."

"This is my decision, not yours!" Bruce could hear the desperation in his voice, but raised his chin stubbornly. They had just discovered the key to regaining his memories, and now they were trying to take it away. He wouldn't allow it. "You can't stop me."

"But I can," Diana quietly said.

Bruce looked over at her, stunned that she couldn't understand how important this was for them. Surely, she would want him to have his memory back. Wouldn't she?

"Excuse me," the Martian said, leaving them alone.

"Diana, this might be my only chance to regain my memories. I have to take it."

"Please try to understand. I can't let you hurt yourself. I'm sorry." She reached out to touch his face, but he turned from her.

"Why are you letting your fear for something that might not even happen prevent me from getting better?"

"You don't know that you will actually get better."

"But I know that I won't get better without doing this. Tell me, Diana, if the situation were reversed, would you do it?"

She said nothing, but that in itself was an answer.

"Then why are you asking me not to?" he pressed.

Diana stood to her feet, voice raised, "What if you die? What if you end up comatose? What good will your memories be then?"

"What good am I now? There is no point to my life if I can't remember who I am. I might as well be dead."

Diana gasped as if he'd physically struck her. Then, just as suddenly, her eyes narrowed and she leaned in threateningly. "Don't ever say that!"

He held her glare for a few seconds when she abruptly turned her back to him and took a few steps away from his bed. Her fists were clenched at her sides, her back ramrod straight, but her head was hung low. "I've already lost you twice," she said in a small voice.

Bruce got out of the bed, pulling off the monitoring nodes. Walking over to her, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest. "It's alright. I'm here," he said against her temple.

"But for how long?" She shook her head, wiping her forearm across her eyes. "Please, Bruce. Just promise me you won't try this again."

He turned her in his arms, forced her to look at him. "You told me you wouldn't be with me unless I had my memory back," he gently said. "Has that changed?"

"I don't know, but it doesn't matter one way or the other. You can't do it. The League and Gotham need you."

Bruce laughed derisively. "Yes, because I've been able to do so much for them since I've returned."

"I know you are upset, but you need to stop denigrating the work you are putting in and how important you are to everyone, in action or not. Just the very idea of you returning has given so much hope to the League founders, and while Gotham doesn't know that you are missing, the belief that Batman is still out there patrolling every night is keeping your city safe."

"I would be a much better help if I could actually remember. Then I could do all these wonderful things you keep telling me I am capable of!"

"Maybe you don't need your memory to be Batman."

"This argument is stupid. If you would just let me use—"

"No, it's out of the question! So stop asking," she commanded.

A sharp retort was on the tip of his tongue, but he bit it back. Diana was the last person in the world he wanted to hurt. Taking a deep breath, he tried again, but she spoke first.

"Bruce, if there were any way I could give you back your memory, I would. But I'm not going to let you endanger yourself." Her hand reached for his, wrapped her fingers around his. "Those nine months when I thought you were dead…" She swallowed, and her eyes glistened. "I can't lose you again. Do you understand?"

Bruce sighed and rested his forehead against hers. "We'll find another way."

Diana nodded and exhaled, taking a step back. "I was thinking we should visit my quarters. You said you saw me in a black dress. Maybe it will jump your memory."

Bruce wasn't all that hopeful, but he didn't want to disappoint her, so he followed her to her room on the Watchtower. After she keyed in her door's code, they went inside. The room was bare, which made sense since she mostly spent her time at the Manor, and before that had been living out of the Embassy.

Walking over to her closet, she opened it, pulling out two black dresses and laying them across her bed. "Was it either of these?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, picking up the dress in question. "This one."

"Can you remember where we were? In the Manor? The Batcave? We wouldn't have been in public."

"Why not?"

"We had to protect your identity. I might have appeared at the same events as Bruce Wayne, but if we were kissing…" her voice trailed off.

"It was the Batcave. In the chair in front of the monitor."

Diana took the dress from him, and turned back to the other on the bed. Her cheeks were flushed, and she would not look him in the eye.

"Did it bother you? Not being able to be seen with me in public?" He had studied the newspapers from the time when they had dated. Bruce Wayne had regularly been seen with other women. Nothing serious, but it had surprised him that it was not Diana on his arm instead.

"When we first started dating I understood that our relationship would be different. You couldn't be linked with me. I accepted that. In any case, I think I remember the day in question. We ran into each other at a charity event in Gotham, and you told me there was something in the Cave you needed to discuss with me, a case related to Poison Ivy. Some plant native to the Mediterranean that you wanted more information on."

"Did I often invite League members to the Cave to consult on cases?"

"No, and this was the first time you asked me. You admitted later that you didn't really need my help."

"So that's when our relationship started?"

Diana laughed, putting the dresses away in the closet. "Yes and no. We had been flirting with each other for years. However, that was when I decided to finally do something about it. Of course, you hadn't really needed my help, so it seems we had come to the same decision at the same time. And thank Hera for that. If you had waited any longer, I might have forced myself on you during one of our sparring sessions, which would have required some explaining to whoever was on Monitor duty."

Diana smiled at him, but Bruce was in no mood to be cheerful. The dress had done nothing, only triggered the memory of them kissing in his chair. None of the details Diana had shared.

"I wish I could remember it," Bruce said, feeling sorrier for himself and Diana than he had ever felt before.

"I do too."

* * *

To Be Continued...I'm going to try to post another chapter tonight. Or at least in the next couple of days.


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: It's late in my neck of the woods and I did some last minute editing. Apologizing in advance if I rehashed things from previous chapters. I'd like to think I'm exposing new parts of their problem, but it could be wishful thinking. In any case, hope you like.

* * *

**Madly:**

**Chapter 17**

* * *

Bruce sat in his cave, staring up at the large screen of his computer. It hadn't taken him more than a day to figure out the controls and view his files. By now he was adept with all his technologies, and he was currently running video of one of his training sessions with Diana.

Diana was out of the house, tending to her ambassador duties. Whatever time she had that was not devoted to Themyscira or the League was spent with him in the Manor. In her absence, the other founding members or his Batclan trained with him. No matter where she went though, she made sure to return for the evenings. He knew it was because of his nightmares. Part of him hated that she had to inconvenience herself to be beside him, but an even larger part of him loved her for staying.

The League had decided not to announce the return of Bruce Wayne, so most of his days were spent in training. Now, after a month of living with Diana, Bruce was on his way to regaining the muscle mass he had lost. Somehow his body had stored his fighting skills. He didn't know them; they simply came whenever needed as he sparred with Diana or whomever else he was training with. As fortunate as that was, he still had to take the time of isolating the movements, naming them, and relearning them so they would come at his command and not as some reflex.

When he wasn't training and Diana was gone, he spent time with Alfred. They would pour over old photo albums and news clippings, which Alfred narrated with his personal perspectives. Bruce was just beginning to understand the importance of his parents to himself, but also to the people of Gotham City. Unfortunately, knowing the cause of his mission did not trigger any more memories than what had returned that night with the painful aid of Diana's lasso.

Bruce laid his head back on the chair's rest. His skin prickled as he recalled the way Diana had pushed him back into this very chair, his head falling back on the rest as her mouth traveled over his throat and jaw. His hands clenched in fists, remembering the way they had gripped and twisted the soft material of her dress. Bruce rubbed his eyes, trying to dislodge the memory that assailed every time he sat in the chair.

Now after a month spent living with Diana, Bruce knew things were almost at the breaking point between them, but she wouldn't relent. And ever since the incident with the lasso, things had gotten worse. He could see how she watched him, how tempted she was to start over with this new version of him. If her hesitance were out of fear, that he could understand. He was aware that his old self had hurt her, and she worried he would do the same when his memories returned.

But he often wondered if the real reason she kept away was because he wasn't the old Bruce. As he watched old news footage about Batman, met with Dick and Barbra, immersed himself in files from the League and his own computer, he began to understand just how brilliant and determined his former self truly was. Faced with what he used to be and what he was now, he wondered if Diana thought he didn't measure up.

Bruce opened his eyes and grimaced at the images on the screen; the footage of Diana throwing him to the ground was on an endless loop. After about the tenth time of seeing her best him, he paused the video.

He could give up, but deep down he knew that wasn't in his nature. He was going to have her. She said she didn't know if she would take him back without his memory, but he was convinced she would. But only under one condition.

Diana talked of her worries, mostly of taking advantage of him, so he would have to remove that particular anxiety. He didn't need her mothering him anyway. He wasn't her patient, but she continued to look at him that way. He needed to show her his strength, his ruthlessness, and cunning. In short, he needed to be Batman. It was the return of Batman she needed. It was Batman that had hurt her. If he could prove to her that he was capable of taking on the cape of the Dark Knight, she wouldn't have a reason to keep refusing him.

He had studied enough of his former self to guess what Batman was like. And while his memory was gone, it wasn't like he was an entirely different person. Buried somewhere deep within him was the same man who had subdued the criminal element in Gotham. Earned the respect and even fear of powered heroes. Made Diana, Princess of the Amazons, fall in love with him. And he would find some way to do it again.

Half an hour later, Diana quietly made her way down the stairs of the Cave wearing her Wonder Woman uniform.

"Any luck?" she asked. Just as she did every day. As usual the answer was, "No."

She walked behind him, placing her hands on his shoulders. "I'm sorry. Is there anything you want to talk about?"

He shrugged her hands off and stood to his feet. "No."

Just as he turned to walk away, she grabbed his hand. "I know this is frustrating for you—"

"Do you?"

He could see her eyes spark, but she held her tongue. "Wallowing in self-pity is not going to bring your memory back."

"And neither is talking about my feelings."

"It's not good to bottle up all these emotions, Bruce. They need an outlet."

He pulled her to him, trapping her arm between their bodies. His eyes darted down to her mouth, then back to hold her gaze. "Unfortunately, you don't seem to like the ways I want to express myself."

By now, she knew what he wanted. Dropping his hand, she sighed and said, "I already told you, I won't be in a relationship with you. Not until-"

"I'll see you upstairs for dinner."

He took one step, but she blocked his way. When he tried to push her out of the way, she used her powers. It was like trying to walk through a brick wall. "No. We are going to work through this," she ordered.

"I don't want to talk."

"Neither do I." She turned on her heel, calling over her shoulder, "We'll settle this in the training room."

Precisely what he had in mind.

When he walked in, she was already on the mat, feet apart in a fighting stance but without her boots. Bruce circled around her, knowing that she expected him to make the first move. He held out, wanting her to break first.

After a series of feints, he found his in. It was only a slight drop of her left arm when she leaned in to punch him, but it was enough of an opening. He aimed for her ribs, barely missing them. But he had expected the dodge and had already planned a follow up move. This she had not anticipated, and as a result she was now on her back, staring up at him.

"Nice takedown," she offered politely, but he could hear the irritation in her voice. They had both been under a lot of stress.

She hopped back on her feet, and before she could settle into her stance, he swept her feet out from under her.

After about the fifth time Diana ended up on her back due to some questionable moves by Bruce, she looked about ready to kill him. He indulged in a small smirk, careful to make sure she would see it.

Diana didn't even try to get up. Practically yelling, she lunged for his calves, knocking him to the ground. The material of his t-shirt was gripped between her fists, and she bared her teeth, too livid to speak.

It wasn't quite what he predicted, but it would do.

He smiled, pretending to be completely unaffected by her anger and similarly unaware of her knees gripping his hips.

She was seething, and he could feel the warmth radiating from her flushed skin. "I know what you're trying to do."

He wasn't going to deny it.

"I should be angry that you keep forcing this issue, even when I tell you it's important that we don't pursue this."

He wasn't going to deny that either, but even if he wanted to, she didn't give him a chance. Now she was the aggressor, angry lips attacking willing mouth, less than gentle hands threading through his hair in an effort to draw him close. Resistance was both futile and nonexistent. At least for Bruce. His shirt, however, was less willing to comply, but eventually it succumbed to their joint efforts. He tried not to smile as she stared at his chest, but he was unable to stifle the low groan at the back of his throat when she trailed her hands down his torso.

"You used to be covered with scars, and now…"

"Is it a bad thing?"

He struggled to keep his eyes open as she began trailing kisses over his collarbone and chest. "There are…advantages to both," she said.

Lifting his head, he pulled her upward. Her entire upper body straightened, and he shifted his weight to his hands, leaning back on locked elbows, his face level with her stomach. She inched forward on her knees, bracing her hands on his shoulders as her hair tumbled around their faces. He was tired of waiting. Raising himself, he kissed her. Having practiced restraint for so long, he let his hands wander free, first up her legs, then over her back and shoulders.

His mouth was on her neck, lips pressed to her hammering pulse. Her breaths came out short and fast, and she trembled under his touch. Bruce fell back on the mat, enjoying her weight on top of him. Hand to hand, thigh to thigh, chest to chest. It was incredible. Every good thing he could possibly think of, had known since he had woken up in that jungle was confined to the beautiful woman in his arms, and he had no plans of letting her go any time soon.

How was it possible that his former self had broken up with her? Kept their relationship a secret while they were dating? Never even told her he loved her? Well, he could not fix the other things, but the last problem was easily remedied.

He whispered the words against her skin and mouth, pouring everything he felt for her into those three syllables. The tender litany built, louder each time he said it. Over labored breathing, the brush of clothing and bodies against each other.

"I love you," he said, one last time.

Diana was now beneath him, but unmoving, staring up into his face with doe eyes, as if just hearing the words for the first time. From the way she looked at him, he could tell that wasn't a good thing.

He closed his eyes in frustration, trying to bite back a tortured groan. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No. It's just..." she blinked, obviously searching for the right words. Finally, she said, "It's perfect," though her tone spoke otherwise.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him close, but effectively ending whatever was about to happen. He could feel her inhale deeply against his chest, and he shifted to his side, taking her with him. "What's wrong with perfect?"

Her sigh was as soft as the brush of her fingers on his face. "The old you didn't believe in perfect."

"The old me was an idiot." It was the only explanation for how he could have denied the existence of perfection after seeing Diana.

Diana turned away, lying on her side. He watched the rise and fall of her back as her breathing returned to normal, as she returned to her former coolness. He had to speak with her before she withdrew completely and shut him out again. Not like his old self did with brusque answers and glares, but with stiff manners and forced smiles.

"Is there something wrong with who I am now?" he asked. He dreaded the answer, but the question had been bothering him longer than he could say. Diana surpassed even his wildest imaginings, and the idea that he was somehow inadequate was unsettling. Painful.

"No, not at all. But the old you was never this unguarded, and I think, once you remember you will regret this. I want this to be your decision, and you can't make it until you are fully informed."

"I _am_ informed. I've done nothing but go over my old life. Talking to Alfred and everyone else who knew me. Reading and rereading all my case files. Even following my training regimens. And I keep coming to the same conclusion: my old life was empty."

He watched her as she lay there silently, his heart in his throat.

"How can you say it's empty? You have nothing to compare it with," she finally said.

"In that jungle, I lived without everything. No memory, no fortune, no fame, no city. And I was content, because you were there with me. That's all I need to know."

Diana turned back to him, weariness clear in every feature. Not the reaction he was expecting. "You can't make these life altering decisions just because you _think_ you love me."

Bruce pushed himself into a seated position, digging his fingers into the mat. "Look, I know I hurt you. I get that, but don't presume you know the extent of what I feel for you. I _know_ I love you. Stop questioning that and making this so difficult."

"I'm not trying to be difficult," she snapped. "The _situation _is complex. I don't know if you loved me before you disappeared. And the thing you fell in love with wasn't me. I may look and sound like her, but I'm not her. You imagined me without powers; some idealized version that I can never be. Have you ever thought of that?"

No, and he wouldn't because it wasn't important. Winning this argument was. "And this month we've been together? That counts for nothing?"

"No, but—"

"Do you even want to be with me? Because if you're just delaying rejecting me out of pity or because you think I'll go crazy again, I'd rather you leave."

"You are just proving my point. If you truly knew me, you would never accuse me of leading you on. What I just did with you was not out of pity, and it certainly wasn't done because I'm afraid of you going insane."

"Then why did you stop?"

"I let my emotions and desires get the better of me. But no matter how much I want this, it would be selfish to take advantage of you in this way. And I guarantee that the old Bruce would think so too." Diana stood to her feet, signifying to him that this would be the end o the discussion. "Do you wish to spar again?" she asked, offering him a hand up, a mask of politeness falling once more over her features.

Bruce stood up and left the room.

* * *

To Be Continued...

I'll try to post another chapter within the next week. Also, go Team USA! =D


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I own nothing, blah blah blah.

Hmm, so it's been a while since I updated this story. I'm hoping to put up some more chapters in the upcoming days. If it seems like a rehash, I apologize. And I promise that new developments are in store in this next batch. Until then, enjoy.

* * *

**Madly:**

**Chapter 18**

* * *

"I think he went this way," the masked man said to the other men with him, and they took off into the alley below. The narrow, poorly lit, litter infested alley. From Bruce's position on the roof, the criminals looked small, like vermin scurrying into a trap.

He rolled his neck, listened to the satisfying crackle of bone sliding over bone. The action felt worn in, familiar. A stark contrast to the new sensations pulsing through him. As he continued watching the criminals trap themselves deeper in the dead end alley, his heart raced, pounding a rapid beat against his ribcage. And yet, unlike during his strenuous training regimens, he had done nothing. Only surveyed this area, staking out the best position for the upcoming confrontation. Bruce's skin prickled with excitement, and his blood roared through his veins, making him warm all over. There'd only been one other time he'd felt like this—on the mats in the Batcave's training room with Diana underneath him.

Is this what it had been like before? The so-called thrill of the chase?

He quietly made his way down the metal fire escape, dropping to the ground in a deep crouch behind a dark green dumpster. Standing up, he drew his cape around him, further disappearing into the dark. The special material covered his heat signature, making him nearly undetectable to any thermal instruments. The men he hunted were likely run of the mill criminals, but as his files had revealed, there was no telling what kind of weapons his opponents carried.

As Bruce scanned the alley way with his lenses, he could pick up no trace of heat or sound. Apparently the hoodlums he pursued were not of the average variety. Grabbing some smoke bombs in his utility belt, he sent them scattering into the dark. Whoever they were, they weren't wearing gas masks. Picking up on their coughs, Bruce walked unhurriedly towards them.

The brush of a hand against clothing and the tell-tale click were the only warnings he had before the alley lit up in a flash of bullets. Bruce ran across the pavement, shots nearly hitting his feet, ricocheting off the cement walls, booming echoes that beat against his eardrums making them ring.

Just as he approached them, one of the bullets hit him on his left side, and he almost fell. Harshly sucking air through his clenched teeth, he stumbled forward. He had never felt pain like this before. It was like getting punched by Superman. If he were wearing brass knuckles.

Channeling the pain into anger, Bruce ran forward, anxious to make them pay.

Suddenly a door burst open. The overhead lights turned on, flooding the dark alley, which was no longer an alley, but a landscape of white and green surfaces. The threat gone, revealed for the illusion that it was, caused the adrenaline surging through Bruce's veins to dissipate. Under the cape, Bruce clutched at his ribs, wondering how his old self fought through this kind of pain. Standing tall, he tried to present the strongest front to the angry woman now charging into the room, hands on her hips.

"What in Hades do you think you're doing?" she demanded of the four men.

The first criminal lowered his gun, pulled off his mask, revealing another mask, only this one was scarlet and with lightning bolts on the side. "I'd just like to point out that this was Batman's idea," he said, before disappearing from the room in a bright blur.

"Relax, Diana," said another of the "criminals," raising his hands to placate her. "We were only simulating what it will really be like when Batman returns to his patrols."

"You could have killed him," she snarled, taking a step forward. Her hands were curled in fists, and every muscle in her body seemed tuned to violence. It was the first time Bruce had ever seen anyone threaten Superman. Well, besides himself.

The last accomplice did not remove his mask, merely shifted shape to his true form.

"J'onn?" Diana asked incredulously, sounding even a little betrayed. "Why would you ever allow this madness?"

"Batman had everything under control," the Martian answered quietly. And correctly.

"Then why…" Diana's voiced trailed off, and Bruce looked over at her. According to his files, she did not possess X-ray vision, but her gaze bore into his cape, zeroing in on the place where his hands dug into his ribs. She blinked, then turned back to Superman. "Why is he hurt? Hera, Clark! What if the bullets missed the vest?"

"If they did, nothing bad would have happened. There's nothing but blanks in here." Superman held out the gun to her, but she pushed it away in disgust.

Bruce finally stepped forward, moving his cape off his shoulders, though the effort sent white hot pain lancing through his side. And yet that didn't bother him half as much as Diana's presence there. She had been scheduled to be at the Embassy for the entire day. He had arranged this particular training session in the Watchtower for that very reason. She wasn't supposed to be there at all. She wasn't supposed to see him fail.

"The bullets are designed to simulate the force of impact, but without any tearing of the skin or piercing of any vital organs. They don't even hit me, but there are sensors in my suit connected with their weapons, which detect when one of the projectiles, if real, would have hit me. When they connect with my suit, it sends a similar force to the general area of my body that was hit. Perfectly safe."

Diana laughed humorlessly. "That is your idea of safe? The force of a bullet hitting you, even if spread out over a larger area, is still great. You could have broken your bones."

Batman shrugged. "No pain, no gain."

"Why have I never heard of this before?" she asked, her chin raised defiantly.

"It was something I had been working on before I was abducted by R'as. We haven't been able to implement it until today."

Of course bringing up the time before his abduction did not help matters. It only served to remind Diana of whatever it was he'd done to hurt her. Fortunately, at the moment he wasn't exactly in a peace-making mood.

She shook her head, anger etched in ever plane of her face. "I don't like this."

Superman stepped forward. "Batman can handle this."

"But he's not—" she caught herself, but from the stricken look on her face Bruce could figure out what she would have said. _He's not Batman_.

He walked out of the room, refusing to stop or look behind him as Diana called out his name.

* * *

Diana burst out of the hologram training room, angry with Clark for detaining her. Bruce could be anywhere now, and Clark's justifications did little to lessen her anger. Only made her feel guiltier. Of course she knew Bruce was trying to prove himself. Even without his memories, he was still proud and hated to have others witness his failures and weakness. Knowing this, how could she be so stupid as to say what she did? Her only excuse was that she'd panicked at seeing him shot, but even she should have known their teammates would never have allowed Bruce to truly injure himself. And now, she'd just driven him further away.

Walking to the Monitor Room, she used the computers to locate Bruce. Surprisingly, he was not back in Gotham, but in his old quarters on the Watchtower. Using the time it took to get from the Monitor Room to his quarters, Diana tried to calm down, think of what she should say to him.

Things had already been strained before she'd thrown herself at him in the Batcave; now, they could hardly say two words to each other without it turning into a fight. That is, if he ever stayed to speak with her. Lately, whenever she entered a room, he would exit it within minutes. Like just now.  
Maybe she should have just slept with him. She hadn't had a decent night's sleep since he'd stormed out of the Batcave. And it wasn't because she was waking him from his nightmares. Those seemed to have stopped, and yet she spent her time tossing and turning on the bed, thinking of Bruce. It would be so easy to just give in to him. Walk across the hall and finish what she'd started back in the Cave.

Diana laughed mirthlessly. More like what he started. Bruce had played her. Nearly got what he wanted. She accused him of not knowing the real her, but how true could that be when he'd only been back a month and he'd already manipulated her into losing control.

But could it really be called manipulation? Maybe at the beginning, but she remembered the tenderness he'd shared with her. The loving words and reverent caresses against her skin. He was giving too much of himself for it to be classified as manipulation. But was it the love he claimed?

Diana shook her head. His love probably was sincere, but she had done the right thing. Sleeping with him would have only made things worse.

Probably.

Now at his door, she was no closer to figuring out what to say, and even more confused.

Raising her hand, she felt the number keys against the tips of her fingers and consider typing in the code. But he most likely changed it after he broke up with her. Instead, she knocked.  
After a minute, she tried again. There was still no response. Looking down the hall to make sure there were no witnesses, she lifted her fist to punch through the mechanism, only to be startled when the door slid open.

"Yes?" Bruce asked, surprising her by opening the door in a towel, his hair still glistening from the shower. No one else was in the hallway, but she hurried past him, just in case. Someone had to protect his identity, and since he was being so cavalier about the whole thing, that task had fallen to her.

His eyes narrowed. "Sure, make yourself at home."

"Courteous as always," she snapped back. By Hera, she hated the way he looked at her, so condescendingly staring down the tip of his straight nose. Hated even more the way her stomach fluttered at the sight of his skin, covered only by the towel slung low on his hips.

"Before you say anything to upset me or make me regret this, I came here to apologize," she said, tersely. It sounded much more like an accusation than the apology she'd hoped to give him. Trying again, she said less stiffly, "I may have overreacted earlier."

Bruce said nothing. He still stood by the door, no doubt ready to usher her back outside. She walked further into his quarters, past the main entrance into the living space, hoping that he decided to follow her instead of leave.

The room was sparsely furnished. No paintings, no curtains. The only indication that anyone lived here was the bed in the corner that was fitted with white sheets instead of stripped bare. And the box on the nightstand. Curious, she moved towards it, only to be called back by Bruce.

"Sometimes we do things in the heat of the moment, which we later grow to regret."

Diana eyed him carefully. Was he referring to what happened in the Cave? She would not put it past him to rub salt in her wounds. Did he think it was easy for her, feeling as she did, and yet always having to push him away? Reining in her anger, she remembered her real reason for coming—making peace with Bruce.

"Exactly. So you understand why I am here." She stepped forward, walking toward him until they were eye to eye. "It was wrong for me to interfere. I should have realized you had everything under control."

He stared at her, as cold and emotionless as a stone wall. Every day that passed he became more and more like his old self, and a part of her wondered if she were to blame. He hadn't always been this way. Not until she'd rejected him repeatedly, forced him to restrain himself. She thought he understood her reasons, that it wasn't because she didn't want him.

"Bruce," she said, swallowing her pride and the sudden tightness in her throat, "it is difficult for me to see you get hurt…It always was. Only I see now that I am hurting you another way by not trusting in your preparation and skill."

"Apology accepted. Is there anything else?"

Diana nodded her head, carefully weighing what she would say next. "I want you to tell me how I can help you. I am tired of us being at cross-purposes when our goals are the same."

His eyes moved to her mouth, then back to her eyes. "We've already had this discussion. You said no. Quite emphatically."

"That's not true."

"Funny. That's how I remember it."

Swallowing her nervousness, she took a step forward, lightly resting her hands on his chest. Hopefully she wasn't making the biggest mistake of her life. "Perhaps I'm willing to negotiate."

His chest expanded, drawing in a harsh breath. Unable to stop herself from touching him, she let her fingers trail lower, playing with the muscles of his abdomen.

His hands gripped her wrists, arresting her movements, but not pushing her away. "Stop," he ordered, his voice hoarse, close to breaking.

She freed herself from his hold and moved closer. He didn't remember, but she knew how he liked it when she whispered in his ear. How his heart raced when she touched the back of his neck. "Bruce, I was wrong."

She leaned in to kiss his mouth, but at the last second he turned his face away. Her lips grazed his jaw instead. "Diana, don't do this." This time his voice held no indecision. The command was low, a deep rumble in her ear. Batman's voice. She momentarily closed her eyes, stifling the shudder that wracked her body. It wasn't hard, since he was rejecting her.

She drew back, hurt and confused. Even more so when she saw how rigidly he carried himself. Fists balled at his sides. Jaw clenched. Pupils dilated and focused on her. Skin flushed.

It made no sense. Each time they stopped, it had been because of her. Bruce had always been willing. Even eager. "But you want me," she stated, though with less confidence than she would have liked.

"More than anything," he said, unashamedly.

"Then why—"

"I want all of you. And you're holding back."

Diana's eyes widened, incredulous. "I'm practically throwing myself at you. In what way can that possibly be construed as holding back?"

And then he was crowding her, pinning her between his body and the wall. His heat of his mouth burned against the delicate skin of her throat. "You want to negotiate. But I refuse to have anything less than all of you."

Diana closed her eyes, trying to focus on what he was saying. With her in her uniform and him only in a towel, she'd never felt so much of him since that night, and the images of them together burst against the back of her eyelids. "I don't understand," she said, breathlessly, pushing herself against him. "That's what I'm offering."

"You say that now, but the instant I talk about anything beyond my physical desire for you, you shut me out. As if my love for you is something repulsive."

He threw her away from him with a muttered curse. Were it not for the wall, she would have fallen to the ground.

Bruce stalked to the other side of the room. As far from her as possible, Diana noted sadly. She shivered at the loss of his warmth.

"Why can't you accept that I want more from you than your body and that I can give you more than sex?"

That's what this was about? Not that she didn't love him, but that she didn't believe he loved her. Why did he even care?

Pushing against the wall, she stood up fully, straightening her spine. "I already told you, you can't possibly know if you love me, because you hardly know me or yourself at all."

"Since I've woken up all I've known is you."

The words and his quiet sincerity made her heart twist painfully inside of her. She wanted so badly to accept him, but all her wanting did not change the facts.

"You fell in love with an aberration, not me. I can't live up to some impossible ideal you created that only had my face."

"She wasn't some impossible ideal. She was you. The only difference was that she actually let me try to love her."

"That's because you didn't hurt _her_."

They stared at one another, both pained and upset by the cruel accusations hurled between them. She expected him to walk out on her, wanted to walk out herself, but she had forgotten she was dealing with a new Bruce, and he surprised her once again. "If you told me what I did to you before, I could at least try to fix it," he quietly said.

"No. It wouldn't be fair to you." It wasn't his fault. Not really.

He laughed, the sound empty and grating. "That doesn't stop you from holding it against me."

She said nothing.

"Well, since you won't tell me my crime, I've had to come up with my own ideas. I've read my files on your people. To the Amazons, sex is an imposition. An intrusion, invasion. Given their history, that's understandable. But that begs the question of why you would ever sleep with me in the first place."

She'd never told him about that, and she didn't want to think of it now. She wasn't ready. "Bruce, please stop-"

Ignoring her plea, he pressed on. "I know you were in love with me; you've said as much. And I also know that you wouldn't have slept with me unless you thought I was in love with you."

His blue eyes bore into hers, compelling truth as powerfully as her lasso. "Yes."

"And because I ended things with you shortly after, you must have been wrong about my feelings?"

"Yes," she rasped, the admission torn from inside her.

Bruce shook his head, smiling but clearly upset. "But in spite of that, even after I hurt you, you are willing to _negotiate_." He spat out the last word as if it tasted as vile as spoiled milk. "You are _willing_ to let me invade your body, because you want to _help_ me?"

Diana glared back at him. Was he mocking her? Belittling her offer of herself? "As I told you before, that wasn't you, and I don't hold it against you."

Bruce shook his head. "It was me. I might not have the memory of it, but I still did it. And even if I can't remember it, you certainly do. Every time you look at me, you see the man who broke your heart. And yet, here you are, finally giving me everything you_ think_ I want. Because you're in love with me."

"Yes. I already told you that. Many times," she said, through gritted teeth. She was not ashamed for loving him. Maybe of herself, but never for loving him.

Bruce's voice softened, and his eyes, so tired and impossibly sad, implored her. "If you can still love me when I've caused you nothing but pain, why can't you believe that I love you when you've been nothing but perfect?"

"Bruce, I do believe you love me, it's just…"

"You don't trust me."

She thought this over carefully. So much seemed to be riding on it. Of course Bruce, even without his memory, was as sharp as ever. He'd hit the nail on the head. "I can't. This is all I can offer you now, even if I want to give you more. I have to protect myself."

What hope had appeared in his eyes while she deliberated was instantly snuffed out. He turned his back on her, as if the mere act of looking at her was painful to him. "And I want to give you my protection. But if I never regain my memory, you will never believe me. You won't give your heart to anyone but Batman, because he's the one that hurt you, so he's the only one you think can make it better. There isn't anything I can do to make you trust me, because you will always be worried that my memories will return, and I will finally decide that being with you is a mistake."

"Bruce, your memories could still come back. Some already have," she said, still clinging on to hope, however small. After all, she was in love with him. "Maybe then…"

"And until it does return, we do what? Have meaningless sex to pass the time?" His sarcasm bit deep into her heart.

"It wouldn't be meaningless," she protested.

"You're right. It would mean the world to me, while you would only accept it if I check my feelings at the door. Make it only just sex. But then I'd be selfishly using you. How would I be any different from those men who humiliated your people?"

"Bruce—" she pleaded, desperate for him to stop speaking. He usually was right, but this time he couldn't be further from the truth. It would never be like that between them.

But as she grew more emotional, he seemed to shut down entirely. His voice was clinical. Accepting. "We both know the longer my memory is gone, the chances of regaining it diminish. In a month, it will be a year since my abduction. I have no logical reason to believe it will ever return. And you have no faith in me or my love for you."

So this is what he'd meant by holding back. She could let him in, even sleep with him, but there would always be a part of her that doubted. Right now, with her desire of him heating her blood, it seemed like such a trivial thing. But over time, that wedge would grow, until it could very well happen that she would be joined to him physically while her heart and soul were completely separated from him.

Now that the problem was identified, she realized it was impossible to resolve. He had broken her before, and only just after she began to experience what she had mistaken for his love. If she gave herself fully to him, allowed herself to experience what her heart told her was genuine love from him, only to have it taken away if his memory returned...she didn't even want to think of that kind of pain. It was past comprehension.

She tried to stop them, but she could not hold back the tears that fell from her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Bruce. I wish I could be like her. I'm sorry that I'm hurting you."

He lifted her hand to his mouth, kissing her palm. "And I'm sorry that I wasn't better to you before."

What else was there to say? She turned to leave, her heart breaking all over again. But Bruce had not let go of her hand.

"Diana, if you ever change your mind…I will wait for you."

She nodded, unable to speak or see him through her tears.

Diana walked out of his room. The heels of her boots clicked against the floor, echoing loudly down the empty hall, but she was oblivious to it all. All she could hear was the voice inside her telling her that Bruce wasn't the problem.

She was.

* * *

To be continued


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: Surely by now you know the drill.

* * *

**Madly:**

**Chapter 19**

* * *

One month later, the issues between them remained unresolved. Bruce knew he should confront Diana, but decided not to. He didn't want to lose her, and was afraid that if he kept pushing, she would give up on him completely and leave. He was quite certain his old self would have made that gamble, but he was no longer that person.

Not that it mattered. Even though he considered himself an improvement on the old Bruce, he couldn't convince Diana of that. Rather than force the issue to come to a head, they had made an unspoken agreement to stay out of each other's way as much as possible.

Training together ceased. Members of the League who already knew his identity and the people in his Batclan sparred with him. Alfred, Clark, J'onn, and Dick discussed matters pertaining to the world and Gotham. Almost everything that Diana had helped him with had been taken over by others, with the exception of waking him up from his nightmares.

No one filled that place.

The nightmares had not stopped, and that night after she'd left him in his Watchtower quarters, he'd forgotten to bury his face in his pillow as he had on the previous days. Diana had stormed in, ready to tackle his demons. The moonlight shone through the windows of his room, making her skin seem to glow in the darkness. Just like that first night she'd saved him after he'd passed out in Ras's jungle shack. She sat on his bed, hair spilling down her shoulders, eyes full of concern. If he had wanted, he could have reached out and touched her. If he had wanted, he could have done even more than that. The offer still stood, even if Bruce would never accept it on the terms she had given when she offered herself. So instead, he asked her to stop coming.

Since then, he had woken up every night by himself, knowing she wouldn't be there, but hoping all the same. While he tried to fall back to sleep, he'd wonder why the old Bruce had pushed her away. He had searched his files for any mention of their relationship, but there had been none. There had only been that box he'd discovered in his Watchtower quarters before he'd taken his shower, before Diana had come in. There were some photographs of the two of them and a ring. But no explanation for why he would end things with a woman he seemed on the verge of asking to marry.

If he hadn't already decided that he would be with her no matter what, Bruce wasn't sure he wanted his memories back. Not that he was afraid of learning anything that would make him change his mind about Diana. He was sure it didn't exist. But there was something else that plagued him, that ate away at the back of his brain. What kind of man had he been that could have pushed her away? He hated the idea that there was a version of him that could choose to live without her. Could watch her suffer alone without coming to her aid.

It was because he was no longer that man anymore he couldn't ask her to leave, even though she was pretty much only taking up space in the Manor. It was pathetic, but the possibility of just passing her in the hall was better than not seeing her at all.

Unfortunately, with each passing day, the likelihood that she would stay forever grew slimmer, and he had to prepare for the eventuality of her departure. After she left, the only link between them would be the Justice League. Which meant, more than ever, he had to become Batman.

Since that failed exercise that Diana had interrupted, Bruce had gone through a series of tests proposed by J'onn, Clark, and Dick. Tests of strength, intelligence, stamina. Everything that Batman had come across in his years of fighting crime, and he had passed with flying colors.

Satisfied, all his Batclan and the founding members of the Justice League had cleared him for patrol. All that was except for Diana. And she would not clear him unless he passed this last test.

Of all the trials he'd undergone, this was the hardest, and he was pretty sure he was failing. The other tests had at least made some sense, and the answers had come quickly, instinctually. They were hidden somewhere deep down, surfacing as he fought or tried to solve some problem. But he had no idea what to do now.

So Bruce just stood there and watched the wind play with Diana's hair. Didn't move to help her as she knelt to the ground and placed the red roses in front of the nearly identical tombstones. Didn't react in any way to the words he must have read dozens of times in his past life if he was to believe Alfred.

He knew all the facts. The date. The theater. The pearls. The order of their deaths. The murderer. The eight-year old witness.

It wasn't that Bruce felt nothing. There was some stirring, but it was just a general feeling of injustice for wrong done to strangers. Nothing close to the all consuming grief, anger, and vengeance that haunted Bruce Wayne when his parents had been ripped from his life.

They were merely names and dates on a head stone, a testament to the evil of man.

Thomas Wayne

Beloved Father

1944-1984

And

Martha Wayne

Beloved Mother

1948-1984

Just another fact.

Diana finally rose from her place on the ground and looked at him. He could see the tears glistening in her eyes, and it struck him as odd that Thomas and Martha's deaths would affect her more than their own flesh and blood.

Out of sheer curiosity and with little forethought, Bruce asked, "Why are you crying? They died long before you even left Themyscira."

She winced at his words, and he immediately regretted them. "I'm sorry, Diana. I was just wondering. You don't need to answer."

Her faced stayed serene, but he saw her fingers curl into fists, as if what she was about to say was difficult for her. "I honor your parents because without them Batman would not exist."

By that reasoning, they should also be laying roses at the gravestone of Joe Chill. But he didn't say that. Even if he felt nothing for his parents, it was rather evident that Diana cared deeply for them. And Bruce cared deeply for her.

After a few seconds of consideration, Bruce finally decided on what he thought were appropriate words. "From what I have read, they were remarkable people."

"No, Bruce. More than remarkable. There are millions of children who have lost their parents in tragic and unjust circumstances, but there is only one Batman."

"I'm sure if they had Bruce Wayne's money and means, there would be more."

Diana sighed, shaking her head. She opened her mouth to no doubt refute him, but something stayed her, caused her to swallow her words. When she next spoke, it was in a quiet voice. He had to lean in to hear her. "They created you, Bruce. That is reason enough for me to honor them and mourn their loss."

The wind caught the material of her chiton, wafting the gauzy white folds around her knees. Without her Wonder Woman uniform, Bruce thought she looked delicate, even breakable. Unshed tears made her eyes look like glass, and her face seemed equally fragile. He wanted so much to gather her into his arms, to comfort her as she had done so many times for him, but the instant their eyes met she turned around, once again facing his parents' tombstones.

He walked forward and took her hand in his. She instantly stiffened, but she made no move to extract her hand.

"Thank you," he said.

Even though he could not see it, he could feel the battle Diana fought within herself. Eventually her head dropped to his shoulder and after some time, she said, "Thank you for letting me be here."

This—his parent's gravesite—was supposed to be a place of inspiration and motivation, but for the life of him, Bruce could only care about the woman standing next to him, her hand warm in his. She was the reason he wanted, even needed, to be Batman again. As he stared at the slabs of granite on this, the anniversary of his parents' deaths, Bruce wondered if love was a greater motivator than vengeance.

There was only one way to find out.

"I'm patrolling tonight," he decided.

"I'm coming with you."

He gave her a brief nod, and together they walked out of the cemetery.

* * *

To be continued


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: =D. Also, this chapter might be a bit more risque than my usual fare. Just saying.

* * *

**Madly:**

**Chapter 20**

* * *

Patrol was the plan.

But now that they were back in the cave, Diana was trying to convince him not to go.

"Are you sure you're ready, Bruce?"

"I'm as ready as I will ever be. The rest I'm going to have to learn through actual experience."

He watched her draw her lower lip between her teeth. "And you know how to operate yo—"

"I am physically and mentally capable of performing all the duties of Batman. And even if you can't trust me, J'onn and Clark would not have cleared me for patrol if I hadn't passed all their tests."

Her eyes drifted down to the bat symbol on his chest. She wore a matching one. It had been agreed that she would stand beside him as a member of the Batclan, not as Wonder Woman. The idea had been hers, not his. He hadn't cared what she wore.

"Were you always this worried when I went on patrol?" he asked.

She pulled her cowl on, hiding her face, and leaned back against the console of the Cave's computer. He quickly learned he despised the white lenses. If not for all the valuable technology and protection they provided, he would have considered them a design flaw.

Thankfully, she answered his question.

"Yes, I was; I just never said anything."

"Did you not think me capable?"

If the tightening of her jaw was any indication, they had had this discussion before.

"That's exactly why I kept quiet. Why does my worrying about you getting hurt have anything to do with your abilities? Bad things happen to people all the time, and as much as we prepare, there are things that are out of our control…I don't want you to get hurt. That's all."

He took a step forward, wanting to assure her that everything would go well, but suddenly stopped, remembering the unspoken agreement to keep their distance. "I'll be fine. And if something happens, you'll be there."

He barely heard her mutter, "Thank, Hera," under her breath before taking the seat behind him in the Batmobile.

* * *

"Are patrols usually this easy?" Bruce asked, as they sat up on a rooftop watching the goings on below, which was tantamount to nothing.

"It seems the gods have smiled on you tonight," Diana answered, with a small smile of her own.

And just like that, the illusion of security was taken from her.

Bruce had seen it before she did. A solitary man heading into an alley across the street, followed by three others with ill intent.

Diana shifted her weight, ready to take to the ground, but Bruce's hands stayed her.

"My turn," he mouthed, then reached for his grappling hook. Her fingers gripped his wrist, and he looked up at her, questioningly and slightly annoyed. "What?"

"Remember, this isn't another training drill. Their guns are real."

"I know," he groused, shaking free of her hold.

"Just be careful. Please."

Bruce nodded his head, then aimed his grappling hook and fired. Swinging down into the alley, he disappeared after the criminals.

Prayers and her heart stuck in her throat, Diana flew over to the opposite rooftop, careful to stay out of sight.

She gripped the edge of the roof, but relinquished her hold after Bruce dispatched of the three bad guys. It took him all of eight seconds. There was nothing left to do but wait as Bruce readied the criminals for pick up by Gotham's finest.

Not wanting him to see how worried she had been, Diana elected to sit down. She had just decided where to rest when the sound of gunshots echoed in the alley below.

In a flash, Diana flew down behind the man holding the gun and knocked him out. Eyes darting across the alley, the first thing she saw were the three men Bruce had tied up.

That meant…

Diana's eyes widened in horror.

Why had she assumed that the man they had followed into the alley had been innocent?

Trying to breathe, she scanned the rest of the alley. There! Just past the trussed up and unconscious criminals was Bruce, lying face down on the ground.

Rushing over to him, Diana turned him over.

_Hera, let him be alright. Hera, let him be alright. Hera, let him be alright. _

The cold lenses stared up at her; she was on the verge of panicking.

_Goddesses, please. _

She noticed the bat emblem on his chest rise and fall; she was able to breathe.

He coughed, which turned into a groan.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

He didn't answer. As gently as she could in her frantic state, Diana hauled him into her arms.

"Tie him up first." Bruce's words were weak, muted by pain.

She wanted to argue, but he was right. Besides, there was no way she would allow this man to get away with almost killing Bruce. In less than a minute, the criminal was captive, Bruce was in her arms, and she was about to leave the ground.

"No." He stared pointedly at the tied up criminals. One of which was starting to stir. "We drive back."

Darting across the street into the opposite alley, out of sight from the criminals, Diana argued "There is no chance they will see us. We will get back faster if I fly us home."

"I'm fine. Take the Batmobile back." His voice sounded stronger, but she wasn't exactly convinced.

"Are you sure?"

"The Kevlar stopped the bullets."

She stared down dumbly at his chest, stomach churning at the sites of impact. His uniform's top layers had been torn, but not penetrated through completely.

"Now put me down. We'll drive back."

Too relieved to argue, she set him down next to the vehicle. Offering him a hand to help him into the passenger's seat, he surprised her by refusing her assistance and taking the driver's chair.

The drive home was tense, to say the least.

Diana couldn't keep from checking up on him, stealing glances when she thought he wasn't looking. The rest of the time she just stared out the window, watching the scenery blur by, trying not to think of Bruce being shot.

Once the batmobile was parked in the cave and the top pulled back, Diana jumped out. Turning back to Bruce, she extended her hand to help him out, but he ignored it.

In silence, the two walked back towards the Manor. Diana was on her way to the infirmary, but stopped when she realized Bruce wasn't following her. He was sitting in front of the computer.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Entering my patrol report."

"You're injured. That can wait."

"I'm fine."

Ignoring his protest, Diana said, "Should I get Alfred?"

"No."

The dismissal was clear in his tone, but she didn't move. As he continued ignoring her, she felt him slipping away. She had prepared for this. It was why she had held Bruce at bay. The return of Batman equaled solitude, distance, regret. She recognized the pattern. He was pushing her away, punishing himself for being weak, wishing he hadn't let her see him fail.

There was no room for her.

This was always how it was going to end. She had to accept it. She thought she had.

She hadn't noticed when he had stopped typing, but her attention was fully on him when he turned in his chair.

"I just need to tape my ribs. I can do that myself. You should go to bed."

His earlier coldness was gone. Without thinking, she held out her hand. "I'll do it."

He pushed back his cowl, and she did the same. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes."

She led him over to the med table, leaving him only to gather the necessary supplies.

Easing him out of his uniform top, she tried to stay composed at the sight of the two bright flowers of purple blooming across his chest. The surge of emotion was ridiculous. She had seen much worse on the battlefield and during missions. He was safe; the bruises would disappear in a few days, a week at the most. He would be out patrolling the next night. Could have kept on tonight if the sun weren't about to come up.

She made no move for the tape, just stared down at his bruises on his otherwise perfect chest. She closed her eyes, shutting out pictures of future scars and injuries he would receive if he continued down this path.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked.

"Gotham City needs a protector."

"But _you_ don't need this anymore." The old Bruce did. This one had no recollection of his parents, no motivating factor for being Batman. The graveyard had proven that.

"But _you_ do."

"…You're doing this for me?" she asked, startled. Part of her had suspected, but it was another thing seeing him almost shot because of her.

The right side of his mouth twisted upward, tempered by the sadness in his eyes. "It's the only way you would remain in my life. The only way you would accept me."

She opened her mouth to argue, but the words would not come. Bruce was right. And she now realized how utterly wrong she had been about him.

He did love her. He knew what he wanted. Only she had been too hurt and angry to admit it. Too scared.

Injuries forgotten, Diana stood in front of him, eye to eye. "Tell me you love me."

His jaw clenched, probably expecting her to reject him at the sound of those words. She lifted her hand and gently traced the twitching muscle in his cheek. "Please."

The first time he said it, she closed her eyes and let the words wash over her. Something deep within her rose up and battled the words. Having spent so many months telling herself not to believe, to keep her hopes low, it was difficult for her to accept this. But with each declaration the walls she had built up against him began to crumble, until finally her heart lay bare before him. Open, vulnerable, aching. She had given him so much, never asking for anything but for Bruce to let her love him. She knew his old self had been broken that day in Crime Alley, and so she had learned to be content with whatever small part of himself he could offer. Goddesses, she had not known until this moment how much she had wanted him to love her back with the same intensity and passion. How much she needed him to love her fully.

And as Bruce kept telling her of his love, it occurred to her that maybe she wasn't the only one in need. When was the last time Bruce had ever allowed himself to love with abandon? How many years had it been since he'd let his heart dictate his actions? Even that first and only time they'd been together he had censored himself, too afraid to give voice to how much he cared for her. He had always kept back a part of himself, fearful of repercussion, rejection, or impending loss.

But not tonight, Diana vowed. Bruce would give, she would receive, and they would be healed.

True to her word, Diana kept silent as he kissed her. Cherished the words as he whispered them against ear and neck. Kept perfectly still as Bruce undressed her with unsteady fingers and lifted her up beside him with trembling arms. Waited patiently as he gently pushed her back onto the table, stretched his body over hers. Lacing their fingers together, he held them down on either side of her head. The metal of her bracelets clanked against the stainless steel of the med table, the sound dampened somewhat by their harsh breathing and her hair, which he'd spread out around her like a halo of ebony.

"Diana?"

Realizing she had closed her eyes, she opened them and found Bruce staring down at her. His own eyes shone like sapphires, darkened by passion and lit inside with fire. Diana's breath caught in her throat. Hera, he was beautiful. And he was hers.

He said her name again, but she still couldn't breathe. Could only give a slight nod of her head, the indication of her surrender. Her years long struggle to forget how he had made her feel, how they'd felt together was over. Only this was better, because it wasn't memory. Taste, touch, sight, scent, and sound. Every sense was deluged, filled and overwhelmed by Bruce. Diana's head fell back against the table, eyes unfocused on the ceiling. Unable to keep still any longer, she arched underneath him, sighing his name as he moved against her.

By the time he stopped speaking, words were no longer necessary. Every touch, every kiss, every gasp and movement was a declaration. Action and thought were one.

They were one.

Afterward, he lifted his head from her neck. He searched her face, his brow furrowed with concern and insecurity. She had forgotten. This was his first time. And there was something she still hadn't told him.

Diana traced his brow with her thumb, soothing the lines of worry as she gently brushed away the hair that clung to his forehead.

"I love you, too. Always."

Bruce smiled, his happiness brilliant even in the dark.

* * *

To be continued


End file.
